


What Happens in Vegas

by Nakeycatstakebaths



Series: In a World of their Own: Bellarke Rom-Com AUs [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellamy is a player, Bellamy works in construction, Clarke is a high strung PR rep, Drunken Flirting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Finn is a jerk Bc the rom com requires a jerky ex but I did my best to not bash, I'm a slow burn kind of gal, Jasper is a PR disaster, Living Together, Lots of stupid pranks and dumb fighting, No drunk sex due to consent issues but there will be other sex, Romantic Comedy, Season 1/2 characterization in the first few chapters, Sexual Tension, Therapist Maya is back!, This is very tropey and cheesy, drinking and partying, there's a lot of sexual tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-01-30 06:00:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 51,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21423328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakeycatstakebaths/pseuds/Nakeycatstakebaths
Summary: Boy meets girl, they get drunk married in Las Vegas, hit the jackpot and live happily ever after with three million dollars. Seems easy enough right? Except Bellamy thinks Clarke is the most high strung, annoying woman he has ever met and Clarke thinks Bellamy is an immature, slacking man child. But they'll have to at least try to make this marriage work or they risk losing their entire fortune.Maybe they'll kill each other or maybe they'll figure out that their drunk selves might have had the right idea...
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Minor Murphy/Emori, minor Octavia Blake/Lincoln - Relationship
Series: In a World of their Own: Bellarke Rom-Com AUs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1544413
Comments: 133
Kudos: 302





	1. Breakup and Backslides

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoy the next installment in my rom-com series. This has been a long work in progress but hopefully you love it as much as I do! Based loosely off the movie "What Happens in Vegas" starring Ashton Kutcher and Cameron Diaz

* * *

  
Clarke reached out to adjust the large pile of presents that were threatening to topple over on the table. 

“Does everything look good?” she asked, turning to Raven while stilling fidgeting with her clothes.

“I don’t know why on earth you went this hard. He’s turning 29, it’s not worthy of a high-end surprise party,” Raven sighed, crossing her arms irritably. She had never liked Finn; he was pompous and he always wore his hair slicked off to the side. There was nothing particularly wrong with him but he rubbed Raven the wrong way. There had been one too many situations where he had acted overly entitled or drunk flirted with a girl in front of Clarke. 

But even though she wasn't his biggest fan, Raven generally put her opinion aside for the sake of her best friend. 

“I want his birthday to be special, okay? I planned this party and I got us tickets to Vegas. If this goes well then, I can bring up the idea of setting a date for the wedding. Our mothers have been arguing about it at their DAR meetings and it’s getting a little old.”

“Oh, that makes perfect sense. Silly me,” Raven rolled her eyes and plucked a mini quiche off one of the small silver trays. “You hate Vegas, you’ve always said it was dirty and gross.”

“Rae, can you be nice, please? It's one night. Think of it as his birthday present?” Clarke pleaded, bending over to rearrange the quiches so they still looked symmetrical. She knew Raven and Finn shared some animosity, but it had only grown worse since the engagement.

Logically, Clarke knew she should try to help her fiancé and her best friend get along. But sometimes, Finn needed someone to knock him down a peg and Raven was always more than happy to oblige. “And I do hate Vegas but Finn loves Blackjack so it’s a good way to get him in a good mood.”

“Ugh fine, but only because I love you,” Raven smiled, bumping her hip against her friend’s. “And only if you send me a picture of you with one of those male strippers.

Clarke smiled and poured another crystal glass of wine for her friend before turning to rearrange a tower of champagne glasses. Before Raven could say anything else, Clarke’s phone buzzed on the table and she sprung up. She flickered the lights in the apartment until a hush fell over the small crowd.

Sweeping the apartment to make sure everyone was out of sight, she swung the door open. 

“Finn!” she called, tucking a blonde curl behind her ear as her fiancé stepped out from the elevator. Her smile dipped a bit when she noticed that he didn't greet her with his normal smile and hug. 

She shrugged off his weird body language and instead moved forward to wrap him in a tight hug. “I have an amazing night planned for us!”

He pulled back from the hug, leaving his hands placed on each of her shoulders. He looked...worn out. His body language didn't exactly seem like someone excited to celebrate their birthday. 

“I know we have plans for my birthday but we need to talk about some stuff before we do anything else,” Finn said carefully, taking a step away from her. 

“You've had a long day, nobody likes working on their birthday! Come inside, I'm sure a drink would help, ” she continued, lightly tugging on his arm to pull him through the open doorway. 

“I think we should talk about this now,” Finn urged, crossing his arms across his chest.

Clarke’s stomach dropped, something was unsettling about Finn’s expression. They had known each other since they were kids, so she was pretty well versed on the many faces of Finn. The face he was making meant that there was bad news coming her way.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Clarke asked softly, eyes darting across his face. She felt her face getting hot as she desperately trying to discern his emotions. Her heart was racing. They had been having a lot of disagreements lately and she had a bad feeling about where this was going. Sure it had seemed a little weird that he didn't want to set a date for the wedding but she had assumed it was due to nerves. 

“You know my job is really stressful right? And well, you’re great. It’s awesome to have you around and stuff because you’re so organized and clean. Plus my mother loves you which is saying something since she hates everyone. But all the scheduling and planning is just a lot of stress for me. Especially with planning sex and stuff…it just ruins the whole thing and I’m honestly exhausted. I think I need to date someone who is a little less ambitious, you know?” Finn rambled, wringing his hands nervously. "Seven years is a long time and this isn't what I want anymore. We aren't the same people we were back in college. I'm sorry." 

“What the hell?!” Clarke snapped, a flush of irritation washed over her as his words sunk in. She couldn’t believe he was criticizing her for having her life together. She felt hurt and embarrassed but also a little indignant. He hadn't even cared to come up with a real reason to dump her. 

“I’m saying that this isn’t working, I’m done with this relationship, I’m leaving you. Well, I guess you’d be the one leaving since this is my apartment and all but still,” Finn continued, speaking as if he was talking to a child.

Something in Clarke snapped at his tone. Rage flushed from her ears to her chest and in a flurry of anger, she whipped around and flipped on the lights.

“Well sur-fucking-prise, I threw you a birthday party. Everyone we know got to witness this display. I don’t even know what to say about this whole thing other than the fact that I can't believe I wasted so much time on you. Goddammit Finn,” she yelled, voice cracking at the end of her sentence. 

She turned on her heel and strode through the apartment to grab her purse with Raven trailing behind.

“Thank God she finally realized she could do better,” Raven smirked. She couldn't resist the urge to pick up a cupcake and smash it directly into Finn’s chest. “and lay off on the gel.”

Everyone else in the room stood speechless, watching the drama unfold. Raven and Clarke ignored the wide-eyed stares as they stormed out of the apartment. 

It wasn’t until they were safely alone in the elevator that Clarke let herself cry. Sobs wracked her chest as she mourned the end of an era of her life. She had based so much of who she was on Finn. It was embarrassing and heartwrenching to know that it was over. 

Raven bent down beside her and wrapped her in a tight hug. She rubbed Clarke's back and assured her that she could and would do better than Finn one day.

XXX

Bellamy held a large, greasy brown paper bag against his chest as he jogged up the stairs. It was his favorite night of the week. The one day he had completely to himself to watch ArkU Basketball and eat greasy Chinese food. These days were what kept him sane in his otherwise monotonous life.

He skidded in his tracks at the sight of someone standing in front of his door, leaning in the doorway. Shifting his bag to one side, he moved closer before realizing that the person was Echo. And she was wearing a nurse costume.

“Heyyyy,” he said, running his hands through his hair as he approached. He wasn’t usually one to partake in long term relationships or relationships of any kind. Hanging out with Echo had been fun but he had been trying to distance himself for a while and it didn’t seem to be sticking.

“I’m so happy to see you, doctor,” she smiled, trailing a finger down his cheek and hooking it in his collar.

He desperately tried to keep the blood from rushing out of his head and to his dick, but he couldn’t help the flush of arousal at her words and the skimpy outfit. “Fuck,” he groaned, reaching out to run a hand against her side. “You look fucking hot, but we talked about this.”

“You’re being silly!”

“Echo, I can’t date you. I don't roll that way. If that’s what you want, then this can't go any further. You’re sexy as hell and a lot of fun. But I don’t want to give you the wrong idea here,” he tried, using all his willpower to draw his hand away from her side.

“This is so stupid, we’ve been having sex for like almost a year. In most of the civilized world, that's called a relationship.”

“I never pretended that this was anything more than a hook-up dude. You’re the one who’s trying to make this serious.”

“Oh, fuck off Bellamy, your dick isn’t special. Own up to being a dick,” Echo rolled her eyes. Glaring at him, she wrapped her unseasonably heavy coat around her body and stormed down the stairs.

Bellamy let out a heavy sigh as he turned the key into his door and shouldered his way into his apartment. He tried to will away his hard-on as he started to lay out his food on the table. Part of him felt fucking crazy for turning down a hot girl who wanted to have sex with him. But the more logical part of his brain knew that she would ruin his life if he kept leading her on.

Shedding off his jeans, he flopped down on the couch and flipped on the game. All regret from earlier slipped away as he relished in the silence of his apartment.

He drifted off the sleep splayed across the couch, remote in hand with the soft flicker of the TV behind his eyelids. 

Unfortunately for his back, he slept that way through the morning. He was jerked awake by the harsh buzzing off his phone against the wood table. He reached out to silenced it, only to be met with a continued vibration that indicated a call was coming through.

“Hello?” he groaned, sitting up and squinting as the sun filtered through the blinds and into his living room.

“Don’t bother coming into work today, or ever…I don’t hire men who sleep with my daughter and then treat her like a piece of meat!” his boss barked, raspy, smoker’s voice reverberating in his ears.

At the sound of his boss’ voice, Bellamy jerked up and quickly began pulling his clothes on. This was exactly what he had been trying to avoid. He had known it was stupid to mess around with his boss’ only daughter, but she was so hot and he was only so strong. Once he realized that it wasn’t going to go anywhere, he kept trying to break it off, but his willpower was usually chipped away. So here he was a year later, having successfully pissed off both Echo and her father.

“Sir, I can explain. Please don’t-“ he tried, falling back against the couch after finally wrestling his jeans on.

“Did you or did you not sleep with my daughter? And don’t fucking lie to me!”

“I did sir…”

“And you did so with no intention of dating her and then took advantage of a sweet, innocent girl.”

Bellamy tried to contain his snort, this man had a completely delusional view of who his child was. This conversation was seeming more and more like a lost cause. His boss was stuck on the detail of him sleeping with her daughter, arguing with it was a waste of time.

“It’s a construction job! I’m one of the best workers, and I’m always on time. I just -“

“You could be a carpenter as talented as Jesus Christ himself and there’s no way I would let you back on my worksite. As I said, Blake, you’re fired,” he said with finality as he hung up the phone with a hard click.

Bellamy chucked his phone against the wall with a harsh grunt, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “FFfffucckkkkkkkk,” he groaned, dropping his head against his knee.

It wouldn’t be the first time that his dick had gotten him in trouble and it wouldn’t be the last. But this was the first time his sexcapades had never gotten him fired. He retrieved his phone from where it had landed in the kitchen, wincing at the crack in his screen. Sighing, he dialed Murphy as he began to dig through his barren pantry.

“I got fired,” he said unceremoniously, giving Murphy a summary of what had gone down with Echo and her dad. “And the only thing I have in my pantry are three cans of tuna.”

“I’m in line at Starbucks now, I’ll get you something and come over,” Murphy answered before hanging up the phone.

Bellamy scrubbed a hand over his face as he pushed off from the wall of his pantry and made his way toward the shower. He needed to scrub off the grime of sleeping on the couch and the sting of losing his job over the phone. By the time he had finished, Murphy was sprawled across the couch watching ESPN with a breakfast sandwich. At the sight of his friend, he leaned down to dig into a bag and tossed a sausage, egg and cheese sandwich at his head.

“Sorry about the job dude…” Murphy said, turning down the hockey game he had been watching.

“It fucking sucks. Obviously, I shouldn’t have kept it going with Echo for as long as I did but did she have to tattle on me to her dad?”

“I don’t really know what you expected to happen. You can’t sleep with a twenty-one year old and then expect her not to freak out of you when you reject her. I’m gonna take a wild swing here and say that she’s never had anyone tell her no before.”

“She was so hot…” Bellamy sighed, reaching into the bag and grabbing a handful of tater tots.

“You got me there dude. At least it was good while it lasted…”

“Unemployed because of boobs, what a way to go down,” he groaned, cradling his head in his hands.

Suddenly, a wide grin spread over Murphy’s face as he whipped out his phone and began tapping at his screen. “I’m a genius. You’re going to love me! You’re going bow down to the sacred brotherhood of Beta Zeta Tau for making us roommates back in college.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes at his friend and balled up a greasy napkin to throw at his head, Murphy had a tendency toward theatrics. “What the hell are you talking about?! Please don’t tell me you found me a pyramid scheme to join.”

“I joined Arbonne for like a week and nobody will ever forget it!”

“Yeah because you made two hundred Facebook posts about how men need digestive cleanses as much as women do. Then you pretended like you got hacked after everyone made fun of you,” Bellamy laughed.

“That is literally beside the point,” Murphy deflected, turning back to his phone. “The point is that I found us tickets to Vegas for $200. I mean we’ll have to fly Spirit airlines but a cheap flight is a cheap flight.”

“Vegas?!” Bellamy laughed, brows shooting up in disbelief at the suggestion.

“You’re unemployed, I have a bunch of vacation days saved up. What’s a better way to make you feel better than a weekend with hot girls, unlimited booze and slot machines?” Murphy exclaimed, shooting off the couch to gesture wildly with his hands. “I mean I’m spoken for but I make an excellent wingman.”

Bellamy considered his friend’s words, leaning back in the leather armchair, “You know what Murph, I think you’re onto something here.”

“Hell yeah!” Murphy cheered, pumping his fist into the air. “I’ll call Miller right now. We’re going to Vegas baby!”

XXX

Clarke leaned forward onto the spinning bike, pumping her legs as hard as she could as the beat of the EDM music vibrated through her head headphones. She funneled all of her frustration from the past few days into the bike. She had to stifle a scream as she thought back on the sting of having to move her things out of Finn’s apartment and for the horrific call to her mother to explain that the engagement is off.

“YO! You’re going to break the pedals off of that bike,” Raven yelled, slapping a hand against Clarke’s on the handlebars.

Panting, Clarke slowed her legs and unclipped her feet from the pedals. “I’m just so freaking angry about everything. I’m terrified of seeing half of my friends! I’m so embarrassed about what happened. Finn brought up our sex schedule,” Clarke sighed, wiping her brow with a towel.

“What Finn obviously sucks and what he was did was inadvertently shitty. But trying to rip your legs off on the stationary bike isn’t going to help!” Raven agreed, pulling up the waistband of her leggings as she gestured for Clarke to follow her back to the locker room.

Clarke looked longingly toward the bike but collected her things and followed Raven to the back of the gym.

“But what’s going to help?! I just feel like I’m going to spend my entire life being embarrassed and angry!” Clarke huffed, pulling open the heavy sauna door with a little more force than necessary.

“I mean, I had an idea…” Raven said slyly, leaning against the wood wall of the sauna. “I don’t think you’re going to like it, but Harper and I think it would be good for you.”

“Every good idea starts with ‘you’re not going to like this’” Clarke groaned, pulling her hair back as the heat started to set in.

“We think that we should use those Vegas tickets you bought. Harper has tons of miles from her job so all three of us could go. It would be good for you to let go a little bit, have some fun.”

“What! No! I hate Vegas and it’s just going to remind me of Finn!” Clarke huffed, eyebrows knitting together in frustration.

“You need to do this as a fuck you to Finn. This is a chance for you to let your hair down and flirt with a few guys. A risk-free way to put yourself out there!” Raven urged, reaching out to squeeze Clarke’s arm.

The suggestion weighed heavily on Clarke and before she could answer, the sauna door swung open and two older women stepped in. Her gaze flicked to Raven as she realized that the conversation was temporarily on hold. Maybe Raven had a point, what did she have to lose? She had the time off from work anyway and if she didn’t go she would just spend the whole time moping and working out.

“I’m in,” she whispered to Raven, who grinned widely in response and quickly whipped out her phone to change the name of their group text to “Vegas Ladies”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh! Spoiler guys...this movie (in irl) isn't very good, they characters are really mean to each other for the entire thing and it resolves kind of strangely (plus there’s a lot of consent issues involved with drunk sex that I don’t want to mess around with). I know I always say this but this story will absolutely NOT be following the plot of the movie aside from the premise, the initial set up and a few fun details here and there. I hope you all enjoy this, adapting rom coms is my absolute favorite thing to write and I love this premise so much even if the movie was a little weird. 
> 
> I always love hearing from y'all especially early on in a story, any feedback is appreciated and always helps in the writing process. Thank you to everyone who supported "Life as we know it" and encouraged me to continue with this series. 
> 
> Looking forward to taking on this journey with you guys :)


	2. Party tricks and drunk cigarettes

* * *

“You absolutely do not need a cashmere sweater…” Harper sighed, reaching into Clarke’s suitcase and throwing the sweater back on the bed.

“I read online that the nights are going to be cold!” Clarke answered defensively, shoving Harper lightly.

“Except that you’re going to be DRUNK and therefore will not be cold,” Raven added, throwing an extremely skimpy bodysuit into Clarke’s suitcase. “And if you didn’t want your wardrobe criticized then you shouldn’t have waited until the morning of our flight to pack!”

“I didn’t have time! That Jasper Jordan Youtube case is driving me up the wall…I don’t know how one person can put their foot in their mouth that many times!” Clarke huffed, zipping her suitcase quickly before anyone could add anything else to it.

“Monty keeps assuring me that he means well but honestly it’s getting hard to believe…” Harper sighed, agreeing about their difficult client.

“No more work talk! I just called the Uber and this vacation is officially starting!” Raven announced, producing small giftbags from the front closet and handing them both one.

Harper squealed in excitement and began rooting through the bag but Clarke put hers down so she could double check her packing list. She whipped around when she heard a groan and turned to see Harper holding a Smirnoff ICE between two fingers.

“That was cruel…” Harper whined, twisting the top off the bottle as she kneeled to the floor and began to chug.

Clarke shook her head, knowing there was no way to escape from it, she retrieved her own bottle and joined Harper in the race to finish it. She winced at the sickly sweet taste of the alcohol and wrinkled her nose as she placed the bottle on the coffee table.

“We’re sticking to tequila shots from now on,” Harper said, making her way to the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

“I’m just glad that since fancy pants splurged for business class, we can drink on the plane,” Raven grinned cheekily, wrapping her arm around Clarke and giving her a tight squeeze.

“I used Finn’s miles, so drink up ladies,” Clarke smiled, pulling her suitcase toward the door. As much as she had been weary of this trip, she was grateful for it. It was a welcome distraction from the fact that she was homeless and recently dumped. The fact that Finn had funded it was just icing on the cake.

XXX

Bellamy pushed his way through the baggage claim, dodging a gaggle of women in their early twenties wearing matching sorority shirts who had decided to block an entire area of the hallway.

“They should crown you with one of those cups on a necklace when you land here like they do with leis in Hawaii,” Murphy marveled, digging into his pockets find change for one of the tourist trap slot machines.

Miller rolled his eyes as he appeared from retrieving his suitcase. “Can we get to the hotel before you start wasting your money on stupid shit?”

XXX

The hotel lobby was absolute chaos as people shoved their way toward the front desk, stepping on one another to get to the front of the line.

A sweaty, panicked man in a bellman’s uniform was screaming in panic that the computer system was malfunctioning and that they would get to everyone if they would act in an orderly fashion.

His assurances fell on deaf ears as the crowd continued to yell and a particularly rowdy guest even lobbed a plastic cup of water toward the desk.

“It’s like watching WWE!” Raven cackled, eyes widening at the screaming people around them.

“Should we go get a drink or something and wait this out?” Harper asked, scanning the crowd nervously as if she expected someone to set something on fire.

“No way, this is a nightmare, they will for sure be giving out freebies to mitigate the outrange. If we leave we might miss out,” Clarke said simply, moving to sit on the top of her rolling suitcase.

“If someone kills us for a free hand towel, I’m blaming you,” Harper answered, eyes still flitting nervously around the room before she reached into her carry on and produced a flask.

“Little Harper is a rebel, I’m so proud,” Raven said, eyes glinting as she reached into her bag and produced her own flask.

“Why did nobody tell me about the flasks!” Clarke exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“It’s an unspoken rule,” Harper said cheekily, tilting the flask so that Clarke could also join in on the fun.

After what seemed like hours, the computer system seemed to be back up and the crowd slowly dispersed. Clarke was extremely grateful when the exhausted looking man handed her the keys to their room and helped them load their suitcases onto a trolley.

The suite itself was simple with two double beds and a small attached kitchen. Raven flopped onto the bed and spread out like a starfish.

“Who’s the old lady now?!” Clarke laughed, throwing a pillow at Raven as she sat on the other bed.

Raven picked up a pillow and was about to throw it back when the door beeped and swung open. Harper yelped and threw herself off the side of the bed to hide against the wall at the same time that Clarke sprung up and re-tucked her silk cami back into her jeans.

“It’s probably just the cleaning serv-“ Clarke began calmly before she was interrupted by a determinately male voice.

“Not quite princess,” Bellamy smirked, leaning against the doorjamb and scanning her frame, eyes lingering a moment too long over her breasts.

Clarke froze, pausing to take in their intruder. Objectively, he was hot and extremely tall. Even from a distance she could see the outline of the hard cut of his abs through his thin, blue shirt. “Well then if you’re not here to clean, what are you doing in our room?” she snapped, striding forward, crowding him back into the hallway.

“I think you mean **our **room…” Bellamy answered smugly, holding up his key and waving it in her face.

Clarke grabbed the small, paper holder and examined it. Sure enough, the room number was marked across the front. Furrowing her brow, she held up a finger and disappeared to go retrieve their own key holder. Their room key was marked with the same number. She glanced over to the hot stranger whose expression had grown even more smug as he eyed her reaction and she momentarily cursed the faulty computer system.

“Whatever happened here, this was our room first so you can go to the front desk and figure it out,” she shrugged, moving to close the door.

“Woah, not so fast princess!” he yelled, catching the door and prying it back open, voice lacing with a hint of stubbornness. Murphy and Miller shared a look as they both stepped back against the wall, whatever was about to happen, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Stop calling me that,” Clarke took another step forward and pressed a finger roughly into his chest.

“I’ll stop calling you it when you stop acting like one,” he shot back, moving toward her so her finger bent back at an awkward angle against his chest.

Clarke paused for a second, he was close, from this angle she could see every single freckle that spattered across his cheeks. He was shockingly handsome; it was almost unfair that his personality was so combative and annoying.

“Our stuff is laid out, my friend has already laid in the bed, it only seems logical that you would just go get another room,” Clarke said very slowly, pitching her voice in the same way she would while talking to a baby.

“I don’t think I will,” he shrugged, hauling his duffel bag off his shoulder and tossing it into the room.

“What the hell is your problem!?” Clarke fumed, furiously storming over to retrieve the bag and shove it back at him. Raven and Harper stood wide eyed by the desk, shocked and unsure of how to handle the increasingly hostile exchange.

“My problem is that your spoiled ass is planted in my room!” Bellamy huffed, as he rolled his eyes at the small blonde. If looks could kill, he would most definitely be dead from the way she was looking at him. And, maybe in another context he would’ve found the whole angry and aggressive thing kind of hot.

Clarke reared up to snap back but paused when Raven placed a hand firmly over her shoulder. “It’s fine, we haven’t unpacked yet. If we go talk to the front desk, they’ll probably upgrade us anyway. Let them have it,” Raven whispered, shoulder checking Bellamy as she carried her bag into the hallway. Raven was considerably taller and more muscular than Clarke and Bellamy actually staggered back from the hit.

“Did she say upgrade?” Murphy whispered loudly to Bellamy. “Dude back down, I bet they would give us a sick room if we cause a big enough of a racket.”

Bellamy gave Clarke a sickeningly sweet smile, “I think we’ll go down to the lobby too, just to be safe.”

The group silently and awkwardly rode down to the lobby in the elevator together, doing everything in their power to avoid eye contact with one another. As soon as it ground to a halt on their floor, Bellamy and Clarke both sprinted out into the lobby leaving their friends and luggage behind. Both sets of friends balked at the insanity of the whole situation as they watched their friends skid and race to the front desk.

“I would love to say that this is out of character behavior but it’s not really,” Miller shrugged, turning toward Harper.

“Yeah the same could be said for her obviously,” Harper agreed, making her way toward the complimentary water and filled glasses for them both.

“I for one am thoroughly enjoying this…” Raven chuckled, taking a cup of water from Murphy before taking a seat on the couch beside Harper.

“The sight of two grown adults sliding across a marble floor while genuinely trying to race one another, made this entire situation worth it,” Murphy agreed, flopping down onto an overstuffed chair.

Clarke slid into the desk only moments before Bellamy did, but he managed to get the attention of the manager before she did. She blamed his annoying gigantic body that dwarfed hers in comparison.

“Hi, we seem to have a bit of a problem…” he began, with a wide charming smile, explaining the situation to a different, more refreshed looking front desk manager. “This is a bit of a special weekend for my friends and this little roadblock really put a damper on the whole thing.” he continued, steeling his expression into a surprisingly believable look of disappointment while he jerked his thumb at Clarke.

The manager softened and clicked away on the computer, nodding apologetically at Bellamy while completely ignoring Clarke. Her irritation flared up again as it became clear the manager was primarily interested in addressing Bellamy’s claims rather than hearing her side of the story. She wasn’t really one to scold service staff but this man was the manager and his dismissiveness was really rubbing her the wrong way.

“Hello!” she called, smiling widely as the man finally turned and acknowledged her. “Now, I know misunderstandings like this happen, but I can’t help but wonder whether this little mix up is due to the technical issues from earlier? I heard through the grapevine that Williamson management is already trying to keep the hellstorm in the lobby under wraps and having that error leak into guest relations probably isn’t going to help the matter. Is their anything you can do to help us recover from the traumatic scene from this morning and ease the stress caused by a mix up that occurred through no fault of our own,” she said professionally, snapping on her best PR professional voice and pointedly dropping the name of the private equity company she knew owned this hotel.

Bellamy gaped at her from where he was leaning against the desk, the smug expression on his face had vanished.

The desk manager blanched and cleared his throat, fiddling with his tie as he looked between Bellamy and Clarke. His bored expression from earlier was long gone as he clicked on the computer in front of him.

“I apologize for the mess from earlier, we had a situation with a disgruntled employee. The mix up with the rooms has never happened before and I understand that it does not reflect well upon the brand that our hotel looks to uphold. I can upgrade you both to a deluxe suite and offer you a few free vouchers. Do you think that would ease your dissatisfaction?” he said finally, shifting his focus away from Bellamy and entirely onto Clarke.

“That would be fantastic sir, thank you,” Bellamy grinned, sliding back into the charming persona he had flipped on earlier.

The manager nodded and quickly began collecting papers for them until he had printed them both new invoices and provided them both with new keycards, assuring they were for different rooms.

“Next time just let the professional handle it,” Clarke said smugly, twirling the new keycard between her fingers.

“You’re a professional tightass? What a shock,” he snorted, rolling his eyes as he walked ahead of her toward their now merged group of friends.

Bellamy handed the envelope full of vouchers to Miller who immediately began shifting through them and turned a few to show Raven.

“This is sick!” Murphy cheered, waving around a ticket for the virtual circus, “all these tickets are together, so I guess we’ll get to hang out a little.”

Clarke froze and made eye contact with Bellamy who seemed similarly displeased. No one else seemed to notice though and they were excitedly chatting amongst themselves about a dinner reservation at some kind of themed restaurant.

Bellamy groaned internally, now that his adrenaline had died down a little bit, he realized that Clarke was hot. She was tiny, with the kind of curves he would normally kill to have his hands all over. But she was bad news, he warned himself, sticking his dick in crazy had backfired on him one too many times. Plus after that display at the desk, he was pretty sure that she could probably have him killed if she wanted to.

XXX

The suite they had been upgraded to way a massive step up from the bare bones room they had been in earlier. There were two rooms, three beds and a massive bathroom with a lightened vanity. In the corner of the room there was an absolutely massive wet bar that housed an incredibly impressive array of alcohol.

They had spent most of their first day in Vegas mixing up elaborate drinks they found on Pinterest in their room and then sneaking it downstairs in water bottles to drink by the pool. By the time they were back in their room to ready for dinner with their newfound male counterparts, they were sunburnt and a little tipsy.

Clarke swiped the mascara wand across her eyelashes, one last time before dipping out of the bathroom where Raven and Harper with preparing to take a shot.

“You’re just in time for a little pre-dinner treat!” Raven cheered, while shoving her boobs into the cups of a very tight bodysuit.

The shot burned as Clarke tipped it back, which was a good sign that she wasn’t too drunk. She wanted to be a little alert during dinner, especially because Bellamy was such a dick and she didn’t want to say anything too stupid in front of him.

“Is **that **what you’re wearing?!” Harper asked, eyeing Clarke’s black, leather long sleeve crop top and jeans. “This is Vegas! Not Trivia night in downtown Arkadia!”

Harper grabbed Clarke by the wrist and pulled her back into the bathroom where she bent over to dig through Raven’s suitcase. Raven was a textbook overpacker and unlike Clarke, had brought enough clothes to spontaneous travel around the world for a few years.

“Wear this and take your hair down, you have those pretty waves from this morning,” Harper assured, throwing the dress at Clarke and moving over to the sink to brush her teeth.

Clarke shimmed into the tight dress and fluffed her curls in the mirror, she turned to the side, examining the way the fabric hugged her body. It had been a while since she had looked hot, she had long since traded sexy clothes for muted, conservative attire and to be honest, she had missed the way her boobs looked in a v-neck.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about! This looks like a newly single lady ready to have some fun,” Raven whooped, smacking Clarke on the ass as she came in to adjust her lipstick.

“I feel newly single and ready to have some fun,” Clarke smiled tentatively, using Harper’s curling iron to touch up her hair.

“Okay, we gotta go, the reservation is for seven and then we have a long schedule of VIP sections to hit,” Harper said, unplugging the curling iron and urging the women out of the room.

For a minute, Bellamy didn’t register that it was Clarke walking toward them and balked. It wasn’t until she got closer and he saw the deep frown on her face that he immediately crushed the impulse to side up to her.

Harper and Raven immediately took their seats, because everyone had suddenly become best friends. This left Clarke and Bellamy to sit next to one another in the corner of the booth. Objectively, he smelled amazing, sharp and clean but Clarke steeled her gaze toward the menu and somehow managed to avoid directly speaking to him for the entire meal.

In fact, they managed to ignore one another for almost the entire night. It wasn’t until they were left alone on a bar swing while the entire group left them to do more shots. The room was a little fuzzy around the edges and Clarke’s skin warmed pleasantly as the alcohol pulsed through her.

“What made you come here?” Clarke blurted out, leaning against the rough rope holding the swing up so she could look at Bellamy fully. “You said earlier that you were celebrating something?”

“Not quite, this is my consolation trip because I got fired,” he admitted, chugging the rest of his beer.

“Well we have that in common, I’m on a consolation trip too. I just got dumped.”

“Did I mention that I got fired for sleeping with my boss’ daughter?”

“Did I mention that I threw a surprise party for my fiancé and the surprise ended up being that he broke up with me while all our friends hid inside a closet?”

Bellamy hissed through his teeth, “Yikesss…that is the harshest thing I’ve ever heard,” he agreed, popping up from the swing and holding his hand out to help him up. “But that makes sense, you don’t really seem like the kind of person who normally has fun.”

Clarke flushed deeply and swatted at his chest, “Can you not be a jerk for like five seconds?”

“No promises, it’s kind of my thing,” he shrugged, tugging on her elbow lightly for her to follow him through the crowd.

“What are you doing? I told Harper we would wait for them in the swing-“

“If you can relax for three and a half seconds then I can try to not be jerk,” he teased, pulling them to a stop. “Take a shot with me princess?”

Clarke nodded and he ordered two shots of vodka with a side of limes.

She clinked her glass against his and knocked the shot back, raising her eyebrows when the liquor didn’t sting going down. It was official, she was sliding past a comfortable buzz and quickly moving toward full blown drunk territory.

That last shot had probably pushed Bellamy over the edge as a faint burn spread from his stomach all the way down his legs. The buzz of the alcohol was dulling the annoyance he felt for Clarke and was quickly replacing it with a strong desire to wrap his arms around her.

“I have a really good idea…” Clarke said, eyes wide as she turned toward him, clasping his hand in hers. “We should go to a karaoke bar!”

Bellamy’s face turned into the frown at the thought of doing karaoke, but by the time he had processed what she was saying, she was already pulling him back toward their friends.

Their very drunk friends agreed that karaoke was an excellent idea and that is how Bellamy found himself on stage singing “I Will Always Love you” with Murphy who seemed to be tearing up a little bit while he was singing.

“I really fucking miss Emori, I wish she was here, I think I should Facetime her,” Murphy slurred as they got off the stage, pulling out his phone and moving away from the noise.

The group cheered as he returned and Clarke handed him another beer, which she then clinked against her own. She, Raven and Harper had done a shockingly good rendition of “Man! I Feel like a Woman”, complete with choreography that Miller was convinced had been pulled from Just Dance.

“This place is boujie and also a little trashy, I kind of love it,” Murphy marveled, sliding back into the booth.

“Oh my god! This is the perfect place for my favorite party trick!” Clarke exclaimed, springing out of the booth and running over to the bar.

She returned moments later with a bartender trailing behind and a bottle of champagne in hand.

“I paid a hundred bucks for this so it better work…” Clarke murmured as she climbed up on the bench of the booth and waved her hand at the bartender. The bearded man disgruntledly handed her a rather large knife and Clarke beamed widely at the entire bar, she was clearly the center of attention.

She cleared her throat and slid the knife quickly against the bottle, popping the cork off with a loud POP.

The crowd erupted into cheers as Clarke sprayed the champagne into the crowd as they all held their mouths open in an attempt to catch some. Raven began to chant, “Clarke, Clarke, Clarke!” and soon the whole bar followed suit. The bartender retrieved the knife and returned to his post, leaving Bellamy to sweep her off the bench and hoist her into the air.

Once the fanfare died down, she unceremoniously slid down from his grasp and landed with her body pressed tightly up against his. The were both momentarily breathless as they shared a startled expression, but the moment was ruined when Miller yelled that they were headed to the next party.

From there, the night began to melt together and it became increasing difficult for Clarke and Bellamy to determine what was going on. All Clarke knew was that Bellamy smelled very good and seemed to be okay with her rubbing up against him on the dancefloor. Bellamy in turn reveled in the press of her body against his and the feel of her hips beneath his fingers.

There was a faint recollection of Clarke holding Harper’s hair as she puked into the toilet in a public restroom and of Raven and Murphy standing on chairs to lead a barwide chant of “When I say screw, you say you!”

“I work 95 hours a week because that’s just what I was always supposed to do,” Clarke admitted, taking a deep drag of a cigarette as she leaned against the wall outside of a hotel.

“Sometimes I worry that I’ve gotten too good at being alone,” Bellamy replied, taking the cigarette from her and inhaling.

Neither of them knew who moved first, but in a matter of seconds they were both kissing. It wasn’t pretty, the slide of their lips together as they grabbed roughly at one another, desperate to touch everywhere all at once. They both tasted vaguely of smoke and Clarke felt like her whole body was on fire, the rush of the alcohol mixing with the overwhelming sensation of his lips against her neck. She threaded her fingers into his long hair and moaned loudly as he lightly scraped his teeth against her skin.

They stayed like that for what felt like minutes and hours all at the same time, before the alcohol consumed them fully and their memories went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the first two chapters! I like to post the initial few pretty close together so that you guys are able to piece together the story. Please feel free to let me know if you have any constructive criticism or feedback, I always love hearing from y'all! 
> 
> Also, if anyone has a passion for editing or just giving specific feedback in general, I would love to have a beta reader for this story if anyone is willing! Please let me know in the comments if you're interested. 
> 
> Love you guys always :)


	3. That's What You Get Baby

* * *

Bellamy rolled over, wincing at the stick of the sheets against his skin. Everything about him was absolutely filthy and he winced at the taste of cigarettes and booze as he ran his tongue across his teeth. He tried to hang onto the last threads of sleep, steeling his eyes shut and throwing an arm across his face. It wasn’t until he was on the edge of sleep that he realized that there was something pressed up against his calf. He recoiled, eyes flying open as he came face to face with Clarke, who was staring at him wide-eyed.

Clarke ran her hands through her hair, ignoring the way her fingers caught in her curls. They were coated with something sticky that she didn’t want to consider. At her movement, Bellamy’s eyes flicked toward her fingers and his entire face blanched.

“Please tell me you always wear a tacky plastic ring on your left hand…” Bellamy asked, voice cracked and raspy from the night before.

Clarke frowned and untangled her hand to see what he was asking about. Sure enough, there was a gaudy fake gold band with a huge, plastic white diamond sitting on her ring finger. It was heinous and she definitely hadn’t been wearing it earlier last night. She twisted the ring on her finger as the night came back to her slowly, filtering through in hazy pieces.

_ Clarke arched her back, giving Bellamy better access to palm her ass and hitch her thigh around his waist. The alcohol had completely removed any semblance of self-consciousness and she fed into it, grinding shamelessly against him. The press of him against her was delicious, but it wasn’t enough. She needed more, wanted more. _

_ Before she had time to tell him as much, all their friends came rushing out of the bar. They were all yelling and Raven swiftly grabbed Clarke’s arm, dragging her with them. She stumbled a bit in her haste to keep up but managed to stay upright until they slid to a halt in front of a different bar. _

_ “Raven and Harper tried to do a Coyote Ugly dance on top of the bar and we literally got chased out of there,” Miller panted, leaning slightly on Bellamy. _

_ “I can’t believe you guys missed it, it was truly a sight to see,” Murphy chuckled, slapping Raven lightly on the back. _

_ “Yeah, you guys vanished for like a long time,” Harper giggled, eyes flitting between the two of them. _

_ “I mean, you could’ve cut that tension with a knife. We knew it was love,” Murphy cheered, gesturing for the group to follow them into the next bar. _

_ Clarke’s head felt fuzzy but the word love kept reverberating in her head, further amplified as Bellamy swung his arm around her and she tucked her head into his shoulder. It was a perfect fit. _

_ “You’re, so pretty,” Clarke murmured, rubbing her thumb against his cheekbone. He nuzzled into her palm, smiling softly at her. Her heart warmed and she slid her hand back to lace into his hair. He leaned forward slowly, pressing his lips against hers deliberately. This kiss was starkly different that the last, it was loaded and passionate. The whole thing made Clarke’s head spin as he reached out to cup her jaw. _

Her memory filtered out from there, fading into emptiness. But it was shocking for her to think that the same man who she had felt such strong feelings for last night, now sparked irritation and frustration.

“There’s no way,” Clarke groaned, flitting her gaze from Bellamy to the ring on her finger.

She suddenly felt crazed, leaping out of bed to dig around on the floor for her purse. She needed her phone, needed to figure this out, needed to understand how she ended up in bed with someone who didn’t seem the least bit concerned that they might have accidentally gotten married last night. Finally, after pinching Bellamy’s underwear between two fingers and chucking it across the room, she found her purse. Thankfully her phone was inside and not smashed on a sidewalk somewhere. She only had a few texts and emails from work and her mother, not exactly the shitshow she was expecting.

She straightened up, pushing off of the floor and perching on the end of the bed. They were in the clear, if they had gotten married, surely they would’ve told someone. Her heartrate had almost slowed until she swiped to the second page of her apps and saw that she had 32 snapchat notifications. A wave of nausea washed over her as she stared at the number, she was twenty seven, she had probably sent 32 snapchats total in the past five years.

“Are you going to yack?” Bellamy asked carefully, pushing away from her on the bed.

“Maybe, but not from drinking,” Clarke sighed, clicking on the yellow icon and bracing herself for whatever she was about to see. “I have 32 snapchat notifications.”

“Okay? So you have friends? Congratulations princess.”

“Not all of us act like we’re still in high school,” she snapped, turning slightly on the bed to glare at him. “I maybe get three snapchats a week. Whatever I did last night was dumb enough to warrant random people to message me about it.”

“Maybe it’s just a picture of your tits?” Bellamy supplied, kneeling down in front of the mini fridge to get an overpriced bottle of water. The bill was going to hurt later but his head hurt worse now. He had thankfully finished chugging the bottle by the time Clarke started panicking.

“SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT!” Clarke yelled, flinging her limbs wildly in frustration.

“Are you having a seizure?! What the hell is going on?” Bellamy replied, springing up and eyeing her in horror.

“Just watch my story,” she resigned, handing the phone to him and flopping back down on the bed with another frustrated grunt.

Bellamy rolled his eyes at her theatrics and pressed the small circle at the top of the screen.

The first few seemed harmless enough, videos of Raven and Harper taking shots and front facing camera video of them dancing, it slowly transitioned into shakier video of random things in the bar and was followed by an extremely close up picture of Bellamy while Harper was drawing a small smiley face on his neck in sharpie. There were a few more blurry videos before the lighting in the stories suddenly switched and became noticeably brighter. Bellamy winced as his own dopey drunk face edged into the shot, pressed tightly against hers. Video him placed an extremely messy drunk kiss on her lips before the camera spun around to catch the inside of what looked like an Elvis wedding chapel. The final few were of them screaming about how married they were and how excited and in love they were. The people in the videos looked like two completely different people than the two sitting in this hotel room. It was almost believable that they loved one another.

Bellamy groaned loudly and swore under his breath, he quickly flipped to the other stories to see if Raven or Harper had posted anything else. Harper’s story was mainly dark and extremely blurry, littered with squinty eyed selfies and goofy pictures that looked like they were meant for a boyfriend and were accidentally posted in the wrong place.

Raven’s story was partially the same but in the middle was a video of Murphy in a seedy looking tattoo parlor getting what looked like a leaf tattooed on his bicep. The next picture was a close up of the tattoo, it was in fact a leaf with “Be-leaf in yourself” written underneath it in ornate script. After a few more blurry videos, Raven’s story jumped to the Elvis wedding chapel too. The background was full of screaming and the video focused mainly on Clarke and Bellamy sloppily making out. He cringed at how slobbery it looked and skipped to the next one. Raven had managed to record the entire ceremony, with all the kissing interruptions included. Shaking his head, he locked Clarke’s phone and tossed it back to her.

His brain felt scrambled, muddled by the hangover and from the overload of information that he just received. He had gotten fucking married, to a girl who he couldn’t hold a sober conversation with. The heels of his hands pressed into his eyes so hard that he saw white.

The sight of his own phone sitting on the bedside table made him feel even more sick, he couldn’t even bring himself to check the notifications. Octavia was going to kill him if she had caught wind of this whole mess. Knowing Murphy and his tendency toward oversharing on all social media platforms, he wouldn’t be surprised if the whole world already knew.

“You changed your Facebook status from single to married Clarke Griffin. I just got the tag notification,” Clarke said, breaking the awkward silence between the two of them. “And I changed my profile name to Clarke Griffin Blake.”

“This is really bad,” Bellamy said simply, sitting heavily on the desk chair.

“That’s all you have to say!?! That this is really bad? Are you kidding me!” she yelled, springing off the bed with surprising force.

“Well what do you want me to say?! That we both did possibly the stupidest thing in human history, that I feel physically ill at the thought that I legally tied myself to someone so uptight and annoying? We’re fucking idiots, your friends danced on top of the bar and my friend got a stupid ass tattoo, but we had to go get married.”

“This is obviously your fault, you’re exactly the kind of irresponsible man child who sweet talks girls into drunk marrying you!”

“Are you joking?! You’re not some sort of blameless innocent in this situation. You saw those videos, it takes two to tango princess,”

Anger exploded in Clarke’s chest as she began to process that she had tied herself to someone so infuriating. With a final, frustrated scream she threw on the hotel bathrobe from where it laid on the chair and stormed out of the room.

Thankfully, nobody was in the common area as she slid out of the suite and quietly padded across the hallway to her room, thanking her sober, responsible self for tucking a keycard into her purse.

She entered the room to find Raven and Harper draped pathetically on the couches, Harper had a wet towel draped over her eyes and Raven was hunched weakly over the ice bucket.

“I puked in my purse last night,” Harper moaned miserably, not bothering to remove the towel.

“I married Bellamy last night,” Clarke announcing, unceremoniously dumping her purse onto the plush carpet.

Raven and Harper both whipped up from their spots so quickly that they both winced from the movement. Both women immediately burst into a flurry of questions, crowding Clarke as she flopped onto the coffee table. They both fired off hundreds of questions but Clarke’s head was throbbing and she wasn’t sure whether she could handle all of this right now.

“You guys should probably delete your snapchat stories just fyi,” Clarke said simply, “But download them first in case I need them for the annulment.”

“We are never drinking again,” Raven sighed, flopping back onto the couch and scrunching up her face at the videos she had posted.

XXX

“We are never drinking again,” Miller moaned, pulling up his hood over his head as he started at the plate of pancakes in front of him.

“I have a fucking pun tattooed on my arm and Bellamy is fucking married. You got off easy,” Murphy chided, shoving Miller on the bicep.

“Please stop saying the word marriage,” Bellamy groaned, pressing his forehead against the table.

“You can’t just ignore the this and pretend like it’s going to go away,” Murphy said, tone shifting from teasing and sliding toward seriousness, “this needs to get sorted out. Emori said you guys should qualify for an annulment if you mutually agree that this was a drunk mistake.”

“Clarke is such a tightass, I bet she’s already made a 100 page file about annulments.”

“They just got back from brunch, Clarke is hanging out by the slot machines. Now’s the time dude,” Murphy urged, kicking Bellamy lightly under the table.

“That’s oddly specific, how do you know that?” Bellamy asked, brows knitting in confusion as he shoved a piece of bacon into his mouth.

Miller and Murphy both shared a quick look, followed by a long pause before Miller finally admitted, “Raven, Harper, Murphy and I started a group text. They live in Arkadia too and they’re cool, just because you and Clarke can’t seem to breathe the same air doesn’t mean the rest of us have to hate each other too.”

“I think Raven and Emori are really going to like each other…” Murphy agreed.

Bellamy rolled his eyes at both his friends and hauled himself up from the chair, swiping a donut to take with him on his march of shame.

He found Clarke exactly where Miller had said, absent mindedly pushing quarters into a slots machine and pulling the lever.

“This is pretty straightforward right?” Bellamy came up behind her, leaning his elbow against her machine.

“Obviously, this whole thing is beyond ridiculous, we should qualify for an annulment without much issue. Especially since we both agree this never should have happened,” she agreed, pressing a coin into the machine.

Relief washed over Bellamy, he didn’t think that it would’ve been this easy. She hadn’t even snapped at him. “I’m so glad this is working out, you’re just like really intense, I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to handle that.”

Bellamy realized it was a mistake the moment the words left his mouth, but it was too late. She bristled at his words, “I was trying to make this easy, I literally handed it to you. You are the most immature guy I have ever met.”

“Well excuse me for being weary considering that you’re more temperamental than a hungry chihuahua,” he snapped back, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

“Obviously I wouldn’t want to be married to an unemployed, adult toddler who doesn’t own a hairbrush.”

“As if I could ever live with someone as snobby and uptight as you princess.”

“Well I’m glad we’re in agreement then!” Clarke huffed, turning on her heel and marching away.

Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, pulled the level to the machine and began to walk away too, until a buzzer sounded.

WEE WOOP WEE WOOP WEE WOOP

A red light above the machine flashed wildly, exclaiming a jackpot had been hit. Both Bellamy and Clarke whipped around, racing back to the machine.

Clarke screamed, “IT WAS MY QUARTER!” at the same time that Bellamy yelled, “I PULLED THE LEVER!”

An employee from the casino ran over to the as the crowd began to widen, excitedly waving a cowbell in the air. He began to gush about how he had never thought he would see a multi million dollar jackpot while he worked there. In a matter of minutes they were swarmed, there were other guests, staff and management all warring to get close to the winners.

At some point a giant check appeared with both their names on it and they both held it up weakly, glancing sideways at one another. From a distance, they could see their friends trying to push their way to the front. Each of the wore an expression that could only be described as shock, tinged with a little bit of horror.

“I pulled the lever!” Bellamy tried again, pulling the check a little more closely toward his body.

“It doesn’t really matter who did what **baby, **we’re married now. What’s mine is yours,” Clarke whispered back smugly, tugging the check towards her side.

Suddenly their quick and easy annulment didn’t seem so quick and easy.

XXX

Clarke shifted nervously from where she stood beside Miles, she had never been in court before and the whole environment made her skin crawl. Never in her life did she think that she would be filing for a Vegas divorce but here she was.

Miles had made a strong case for Clarke, citing her successful career and family ties to the community as reasons why she was entitled to a portion of the money. However, Murphy’s wife, Emori had made a similarly strong case for Bellamy and the judge hadn’t seemed particularly impressed by either character representation.

The older man leaned back in his bench, hands clasped firmly in front of him and his lips pressed into a hard line. He was eyeing them both with a look laced with mild irritation.

“Miles, Emori, you are both fine attorneys and you have put forward excellent, compelling testaments in defense of two people who have both demonstrated extremely questionable judgement,” the judge began, nodding approvingly at both lawyers. “I would like to address these two personally if you will,” he crooked a long thing finger toward the bench, urging both Bellamy and Clarke to step forward. The courtroom was empty save for their friends and a few assorted support people, so the whole ordeal seemed unnecessarily theatrical.

“There’s a lot of talk in this country about the sanctity of marriage and frankly I think it’s all a bunch of prejudiced baloney. The real people who are ruining marriage in this country are people like the two of you, who think that marrying a stranger in front of Elvis is not only appropriate but even acceptable. This is the problem with your generation and all your Youtube, Facebook nonsense. A wedding entirely documented over Snapchat, this is truly disgraceful,” the judge scolded, leaning forward in his bench.

Both of them made attempts to apologize but the judge stopped them by simply continuing to speak over them.

“I don’t want to hear some half assed apology, I want you both to show me that you actually tried to make this marriage work. I will not allow for an annulment unless you can both demonstrate a reasonable effort. I’m assigning you a weekly marriage counselor who will evaluate you and your progress. If you halfass this, I will find out and if I find out then I will tie the money up in litigation until there’s nothing left except the quarter you put in that slot machine.”

Emory and Miles both tries to object but the judge held up his hand, giving them both a stern look. “Those are my terms, you can appeal if you would like but I believe the prosecutor shares my views on drunk Elvis weddings so it would be a waste of your time,” the judge shrugged, flipping through his papers before turning his attention back to his point. “Now do you both have somewhere to live?”

Clarke felt her neck grow hot before her gaze flitted up to the judge and she admitted, “No sir, I’m recently on the hunt for an apartment.”

“Excellent, Ms. Griffin will move in with Mr. Blake and you will complete ten weeks of supervised weekly counseling. After those ten weeks, if you can demonstrate that you both tried, then the money will be split equally through an annulment. If I catch wind of any sabotage, the guilt party immediately forfeits their claim to any monetary compensation in the dissolvement of the marriage. If one of you decides its too much, you can back out at any time but keep in mind you would forfeit your half of the money.”

The judge smugly banged his gavel against the bench, Clarke suspected it was more for theatrics than for any actual legal purpose. She took a deep breath and turned on her heel, not bothering to look at Bellamy who seemed almost frozen where he was standing. She could do this, she could handle ten weeks of her life for 1.5 million dollars.

“This isn’t going to be so bad,” she whispered to herself as she collected her things and followed Miles out of the courtroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I going to title half of these chapter with Katy Perry lyrics? Probably. 
> 
> Anyway, the updates will probably slow from here since we're actually getting into the real plot but this story should be updated once a week at most so the wait between chapters shouldn't be too long. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, Kudos'd or just looked at this story. I appreciate each and every one of you and love hearing what you all think. Knowing what you guys like and don't like helps me adjust the story based on what seems to be well perceive vs. what's coming off weird (plus I just love getting to know you all, it makes my heart so warm to recognize usernames from my other stories!) 
> 
> I always love hearing what you guys think <3


	4. Frozen bedsheets

* * *

Raven leaned against the counter as Bellamy and Clarke once again burst into a fit of yelling over something stupid. Murphy’s wife Emori leaned next to her and pressed a mug of coffee into her hand, rolling her eyes at the bickering.

“I don’t want your sweaty, dirty clothes touching mine!” Clarke snapped, slamming a wicker basket onto the bathroom floor.

“They’re all going into the washing machine anyway Princess,” Bellamy groaned, picking up the basket and holding it over his head, out of her reach. “There isn’t room in here for your gigantic monogrammed basket!”

Clarke huffed in protest, chasing behind Bellamy as he carried the basket out of the bathroom and chucked it into the hallway.

“You have a **bar** in the middle of your living room, but I can’t have a laundry basket?!” Clarke protested, leaning an elbow against the tall, wooden ledge.

“I built that bar myself,” Bellamy shrugged, carrying an armful of Clarke’s clothes and dumping them unceremoniously on the couch. “This is where you’ll be sleeping by the way,” he added, jerking a thumb toward the couch.

“What that hell?! Absolutely not! Can’t we get rid of the bar and get another bed?”

“It a pullout couch. I’m a contractor Princess, not a Rockafeller. You’ll live,” he said, dumping the last box on the floor and turning to retrieve a beer from fridge.

“Do you also happen to house monkeys in here Mr. contractor?” she snapped back, eyeing the lumpy brown couch.

“Only on the weekends,” he answered, covertly picking up a dirty sock and stuffing it in between Clarke’s clothes.

Clarke didn’t seem to notice so he shoved another one in her pillowcase, shooting a smug smile at Emori who did not look amused.

Clarke eyed Bellamy and edged into the kitchen, poking the enormous stack of dirty dishes sitting in the sink. She could feel her eye start to twitch as she took in the sticky counter and full sink.

“I think Clarke has to get back to work,” Raven said quickly, sensing a meltdown she grabbed Clarke’s arm and ushered her out of the apartment.

“Why is this happening to me,” she groaned, running her hands through her hair and sliding down the wall of the elevator.

“He’s egging you on, if you keep letting it get to you then you’re never going to last…” Raven explained, sliding down to sit beside her friend.

“Well screw him and screw his disgusting apartment,” Clarke huffed, tipping her head back against the wall.

Fueled by rage at Bellamy and the thought of sleeping on a pullout couch, Clarke stormed into her office with her chunky heels clicking violently against the trendy Japanese tile. Grabbing a kombucha from the communal fridge in her lobby, she breezed past the gaggle of interns crowded around a monitor and stormed into her office.

She found Harper leaning against her desk, twirling a thumb drive between her fingers. “You’re just in time, I have a massive shitstorm waiting for you!” Harper said with fake enthusiasm, taking Clarke’s kombucha from her hand and taking a swig.

Clarke rolled her eyes, she knew what the video was about before even looking at it and she really didn’t have the patience for it today. They had been dealing with a particularly difficult client for the past few months, Jasper Jordan was something of Youtube sensation. He had made his fame livestreaming himself playing video games and was pretty much the standard popular gamer. The firm had never had much luck representing Youtubers, but he was Harper’s fiancé’s childhood best friend, so they had made an exception.

Jasper promoted a giveaway for computer equipment that was ridden with Chinese malware and then gave a discount code that was linked to stealing people’s credit card information. When he had found out about the controversy, he ignored it, triggering the media firestorm of the century.

“Just what I need after an afternoon with my dear husband and his biohazardous apartment,” Clarke sighed, sinking into her desk chair as Harper shoved the drive into the computer and a video popped up.

The screen immediately filled with a video of Jasper sitting on top of a dryer in a black hoodie and he began to give a monologue about how sorry he was. It was pretty over the top and the acting was terrible, Clarke half expected ‘In the arms of an angel’ to start playing in the background. About halfway through he began sniffling and wiping away fake tears.

“He could’ve at least tried to actually cry,” Clarke said, reaching out to pause the video.

“We told him he had to check with you before he posted anything…clearly he takes instruction well,” Harper agreed. “The management team wants to fire him, but Monty insists that he’s just impulsive and not trying to be a tool, so I talked them out of it.”

“Lucky for him I’m in a great mood, he’s got a super friendly phone call coming his way.”

Harper reached out and grabbed the phone from Clarke’s hand before she had the chance to dial. “Before you make Jasper cry for real, spill about the move in. Did he carry you over the doorway?”

Clarke almost spit out her sip of kombucha as she barked out a laugh, “Absolutely not. His apartment looks like a frat house, in fact, there’s actually a fraternity crest hanging above the toilet in the bathroom.”

“You’re joking,” Harper laughed, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

Clarke plopped down into the hard leather chair in front of her desk and pressed her forehead against the cold metal of her desk. “I live in a zoo and I’m sleeping on a pullout couch.”

“Wait, I have an amazing idea. What’re you doing tomorrow?” Harper exclaimed, leaping up from a clear, acrylic chair in the corner of the room.

Clarke eyed Harper nervously, wondering what kind of insane plan she was concocting.

“Well it’s your apartment too, why not decorate a little? I think we have a date with our dear friend, Bed Bath and Beyond,” Harper grinned wickedly.

“I like the way you think…” Clarke smiled, feeling a bit better as she started picturing what kind of mattress pad she wanted to get for her pullout couch.

XXX

Bellamy adjusted his grip and hauled the bar over his head, relishing in the burn in his arms and back. Clarke was driving him insane, the gym was the only place he could get a moment of silence, especially since Clarke had taken a liking to waking up at 6:30am to make smoothies and yell at some guy named Jasper on the phone.

“That was a record!” Miller smiled as Bellamy dropped the bar back into the rack.

“I needed that,” Bellamy grunted in return, sitting up to wipe his face. “Clarke is driving me up the fucking wall.”

“Yeah Emori mentioned that move in day was…rough.”

“She’s the gift that keeps on giving.”

“She’s really not that bad and some part of you must like her if you married her in the first place.”

For a moment Bellamy mind flashed back to the night in Vegas, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling of Clarke’s lips against his neck, even now. They had great chemistry, he had to admit and she was really hot. Even now, he found his mind wandering to what it would be like to actually fuck her.

“Yeah. My dick,” he laughed, tossing a towel at Miller as he moved toward the treadmills. “My dick didn’t realize that she would be giving me step by step instructions on how to put the toilet seat down.”

“That’s a joke, right?”

“I wish…there was a diagram taped to the wall after the lecture too.”

Miller gaped open mouthed as he pushed up from his squat, he had kind of assumed Bellamy was being over the top about how neurotic Clarke was being.

“She’s totally baiting you, you realize, that right? Nobody is actually that anal.”

“Well you’re looking at the Beta Zeta Tau prank king four years running so if she’s looking for a fight, she’s going to get one.”

  
XXX

Clarke sat stiffly next to Bellamy on an overstuffed couch, pointedly avoiding letting their knees touch. They had agreed to really ham it up to this therapist, hoping that it would come off as a convincingly horny newly married couple. Clarke tried to channel the rush that she remembered feeling when he had pressed her up against the wall in Vegas, hoping it would help her feel less horrified at the thought of pretending to have feelings.

Just as she was about to confirm the plan with him, the door clicked open and Bellamy swiftly reached out to pull Clarke into his lap. He started running his hand up and down her back and she snapped into character, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. For a minute Clarke forgot they were playing characters, reveling in the sharp scent of his cologne as she ran her lips up and down his neck.

A sharp throat clear shook them both out of their act but Clarke remained perched across Bellamy’s thighs with his fingers digging lightly against her waist.

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Blake, I’m Maya,” the woman said primly, flipping her French braid over her shoulder and taking a seat across from them. She had a sweet face and was wearing a seemingly innocent looking cardigan but something about her expression made it clear that she was already done with their shit. “I read your file, you can cut the act.”

“There’s no act, I just can’t keep my hands off my hunky hunky husband,” Clarke cooed, running a finger down the side of Bellamy’s face and relishing in the shiver she received in response.

“I mean have you seen this…” Bellamy grinned, sliding his hands down Clarke’s back and palming her ass. Clarke’s body liked his grip a little too much and she reflexively ground down against his crotch, squirming as she felt him harden slightly against her thigh.

Maya grimaced at them and clicked her pen, jotting down something on a pad of paper, “They don’t usually recommend court mandated therapy to ahem-regular couples.”

“We’ve had a change of heart,” Bellamy said quickly, smacking a kiss on Clarke’s jawline and notably not removing his hands from her ass. They were definitely laying it on a little thick, but Clarke played along, squeezing his biceps lightly. Admittedly, he was jacked, and she was enjoying this a little more than she should.

“You two understand that I’m responsible for granting the divorce?” Maya said slowly, impatience lacing into her voice. “If you don’t need a divorce, then you don’t need me.”

Bellamy and Clarke shared a look as he dumped her ungracefully from his lap and onto the couch, covertly readjusting his pants once she was a safe distance away. She could feel her face heating up as the reality of how ridiculously transparent the whole thing must’ve looked but couldn’t shake the faint buzz that was sitting underneath her skin.

“Obviously you don’t want to be here, that’s fine. I don’t really want to be here either, the judge didn’t exactly paint a glowing picture of the two of you.”

“I swear I’m never like this, I’m a professional adult,” Clarke explained quickly, sliding away so that she could create some distance between herself and her husband.

“I know all the surface details about you guys, what I need is for you to let me get to know you. So cut the fake lovey dovey bullshit. If you want me to tell the judge you’re working on this marriage then you’re actually going to have to try.”

Bellamy’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, he hadn’t exactly expected this sweet faced, hair ribbon wearing woman to call him out on his shit. He also hadn’t expected to have his unfortunately hot wife grinding on his dick in their therapist’s office. Despite his best efforts he couldn’t shake the empty feeling in his lap from where she had been sitting.

“So, tell me something about yourselves, what do you do for fun?”

Clarke and Bellamy both blurted out in unison, “Spending time together,” like they had rehearsed in the car on the way but corrected course when Maya fixed them both with a glare. They both tried again, “working out,” they both blurted out, before sharing a lightly horrified expression.

A wide grin spread across Maya’s dimpled cheeks as she immediately jumped into a spiel about the importance of shared interests in creating a bond. As she spoke, Clarke felt a pit of dread forming in her stomach. The gym had been her one place where she didn’t have to deal with Jasper Jordan’s shit or Bellamy’s drama, and now that was ruined too. Bellamy was trying to look chill, but she could see his knee bouncing nervously as Maya droned on about the power of endorphins.

“I’m giving you two an assignment for next week. I want you to bond, act like a normal couple. Go out to dinner, the gym, just spend some time together, I don’t care. But I need some of this animosity to die down, it’s honestly uncomfortable to be in here with you two,” Maya finished, clicking her pen again, pushing out of her chair and leaving the room without much sentiment.

“Talk about looks being deceiving,” Bellamy said, watching the door as it slammed behind her.

XXX

Clarke pushed the increasingly heavy cart through the bedding aisle, laughing as Raven and Harper piled decorative bedding into her cart. They had found an apartment essentials checklist on Pinterest and kind of gone nuts with the decorations.

“Do you think Bellamy would like these Frozen bedsheets?” Harper giggled as Raven plucked them out of her hands and turned toward the flannel assortment.

“She’s trying to piss him off not give him a reason to throw her out a window,” Raven chided, throwing a red checked sheet set into the cart and steering them out of the bedding area.

“I think some black and white llama paintings would be a good finishing touch?” Clarke asked, browsing through the wall art.

“Add some cookie scented candles and I think you’re good to go!” Harper agreed, tossing a snickerdoodle Yankee Candle onto the pile of fluffy grey bathmats.

“Okay we gotta hurry if you’re going to be able to set this all up before Bellamy gets back from Murphy’s,” Raven urged, pushing them toward the checkout.

The girls collapsed into a fit of giggles as they paid for their purchases and piled back into their car. It had initially been difficult to get Raven to join in on their plan, but even she could see that the apartment was a pigsty. Her only stipulation was that it had to be reasonable and they couldn’t actually throw anything away. Raven liked Bellamy’s friends and she wasn’t looking to make any enemies in this process, even if Clarke kind of was.

Setting up the apartment was a herculean task and Clarke settled for stuffing anything she found unsavory into the hall closet. The first thing she did was throw a tablecloth over the bar, covering the scratched, sticky surface with dark blue cloth. She then got to work arranging some of the candles and framing a few pictures to place on top. She mixed some of her own with some of Bellamy’s that she had taken off the fridge. A lot of them had a dark haired woman in them and a set of dark haired young boys. Clarke studied the picture as she slipped it into the frame, wondering who the woman was and why there were pictures of her and Bellamy everywhere.

She was shaken out of her thoughts when she heard Raven yelp and turned to find a large mattress pad slowly taking shape on top of the couch.

“Sorry, it kind of just popped out of the package,” she explained, smoothing the corners while Harper began to press a sheet across it.

Clarke moved to change her pillow cases and yelped when multiple dirty socks fell out. She gagged, pulling out a third sock that was stuffed in the corner of the case. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” she groaned, throwing the pillow and moving to furiously strip the sheets off Bellamy’s bed. Suddenly she wished she had let Harper pick out the Frozen bedsheets for him.

The apartment came together pretty quickly, and Clarke was honestly surprised to find that with a little bit of cleaning and some decent décor, the loft apartment was actually pretty nice. She had tucked her bed into a nook to give herself a bit of privacy and had rearranged the recliner and futon to make an actual living room. If she was being self serving, they had done a pretty good job.

Just as Harper lit the cookie scented candle, Bellamy swung the door open and went to throw his coat on the lawn chair by the door when he realized it was gone. His face contorted into a frown as he pulled out his Airpods and scanned the room.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Harper squeaked, grabbing Raven’s arm and sliding past Bellamy out the door.

The second the door clicked behind Bellamy, it was a like a switch flipped. “What the hell is this?!” he yelled, racing through the apartment and taking in her changes. “Is this a fucking joke?!”

“I just did some redecorating for **our** place!” Clarke responded cheerfully, leaning up against her newly decorated bar.

“What did you do with my stuff!?” Bellamy said, voice dangerously even as he walked into the bathroom, “YOU REPLACED MY FRATERITY AWARD WITH A PICTURE OF A FUCKING LLAMA?”

“It’s actually an alpaca,” Clarke said smugly, “and don’t worry all your décor is in the closet. Including your precious award.”

The vein in Bellamy’s neck was twitching wildly as he strode over to Clarke, “You’re insane, controlling psychopath, you know that right?”

“And you’re a filthy, irresponsible man child. What kind of thirty year old man uses fraternity paraphrenia and cardboard beer cases for decorations?”

“I LITERALLY CANNOT BELIEVE YOU. Take the tablecloth off my goddamn bar!”

Clarke rolled her eyes but complied, pulling the tablecloth gently so she didn’t disturb the items sitting on top. Bellamy was still seething; his shoulders were so tense they were practically touching his ears as he angrily collected his clothes and stormed toward the shower.

He slammed the bathroom door, taking deep breaths as he pressed his fists into his eyes. This woman was really gnawing on his last nerve, he didn’t know how much more of this he could handle but he couldn’t let her win. Furious, he reached out and ripped her stupid toilet lid sign off the wall, tearing it into small pieces.

There had to be some way for him to get back at her, he thought, flipping on the water and letting the cold spray ebb away at his rage.

His anger had died down by the time he emerged from the shower, as much as he hated to admit it, the place did look better. He found Clarke in their new living room area, sprawled on the futon with a bowl of popcorn.

“You vagina-ified my apartment, so I get to pick the movie,” Bellamy said, bouncing down next to her and shaking his head like a dog so water sprayed all over her and her popcorn.

“Ugh,” she cried, throwing the remote at him as she dodged the spray.

He picked something stupid and leaned back, grabbing a handful of her popcorn. He tried his best to ignore the fluffy white pillow propped behind him.

As the movie progressed, Clarke found herself studying Bellamy’s profile. He had been angrier than she expected and she found herself feeling a little guilty about his reaction. Messing with him hadn’t felt quite as good as she had hoped.

Bellamy could feel Clarke staring at him but steeled his gaze forward, pointedly reaching into his pants to adjust his junk and then digging his hand into the popcorn bowl.

She let out a disgusted grunt and pushed the bowl toward him, frowning animatedly at his hand. He smirked at her and took a large handful, stuffing it into his mouth.

The movie turned out to be unbearably awful, as most randomly selected Netflix movies generally are and Clarke stood up to get ready for bed. Just when she started to feel bad for him, he had to act like a complete tool.

She smiled at the sight of her clean, well designed bathroom as she got ready for bed and tucked herself in just as Bellamy shut the bathroom door.

Bellamy reached under the sink, extracting his modest toolkit. He had the perfect idea to get back at Clarke and he chuckled to himself as he bent down and started unscrewing the toilet seat. Carefully, he kept the lid intact and tucked the seat into the tub. Like clockwork, his dear wife always woke up in the middle of the night and made as much noise as possible while using the bathroom, but he knew for a fact that she never turned the light on. Tonight, she was in for a nice surprise, he had learned from the saranwrap toilet war of 2011 that the easiest time to get someone was in the middle of the night when they had to pee.

Grinning widely, he brushed his teeth and tucked himself into his newly made bed. Like the décor, as much as he hated to give Clarke credit for anything, the sheets were nice as hell. He couldn’t remember the last time he had fallen asleep with clean sheets in his apartment. The slide of the soft checked material against his skin, brought back very distinct memories of blonde hair between his fingers and soft tits pressed up against his chest. Shaking his head, he shrugged the memory aside, burying into his sheets and forcing himself to fall asleep.

XXX

Just as he had predicted, Bellamy was jerked awake in the middle of the night by the sound of Clarke loudly getting out of bed and walking toward the bathroom. Pushing past the momentary irritation, he steeled himself, listening closely for her reaction.

As expected, there was a thud and a loud shriek followed by a string of expletives. Bellamy burst into a fit laughter, choking on the air as Clarke emerged from the bathroom absolutely seething. She had a towel wrapped around her waist and it caused Bellamy to laugh harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason I love writing Maya as an authority figure that tortures them...who knows why hahaha. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and for the feedback as always. This story definitely has a very different vibe than the previous one but hopefully y'all are enjoying it. Love y'all! I'm really liking how these characterizations are shaping out, even though they're kind of insufferable at times. 
> 
> If anyone is interested in betaing or even just reading for consistency and feedback, I would be immensely grateful! Just let me know in the comments below :)


	5. Sunscreen

* * *

EDM music pumped loudly through the room and Bellamy internally groaned, turning the knob on his bike so that his legs could pump more freely. He couldn’t believe he had agreed to go to one of these trendy spin classes with Clarke, but he was kind of scared of Maya, so he was willing to try this whole bonding thing. There had never been a time when he had felt compelled to try group fitness and the neon blacklights were making him realize why.

A lithe instructor clicked on a mic and began giving a motivational speech as the lights began to dim. “Feel the negative energy pump out through you veins and flow out of your body, use this time to clear your mind and focus on the capabilities of your body.”

Bellamy glanced over at Clarke who was furiously pedaling with her eyes closed. He shook his head but closed his eyes too, trying to hone in on his own movement and what the instructor was saying.

After a while, he started to tune the EDM out, but the instructor was making some valid points. Honestly, it was making him a little emotional. At the top of a particularly difficult hill, he saw Clarke covertly wipe a tear away. He even found himself getting a little choked up over the instructor’s words. For a moment, it felt like he and Clarke actually had something in common.

Before he really had the chance to process his new emotions, the class ended, and the lights began to brighten up. Clarke jumped off her bike without a second glance toward him and dipped into the hallway. The outside was a stark jump from the dark studio, there were people everywhere, chatting and laughing. A short brunette came up behind him just as he found Clarke.

“I hope you liked your first class!” she chirped cheerfully, “Newbies get to take their pics in front of the wall. It’ll be a cute couples pic!” With a surprising amount of force for such a small human, she directed Bellamy in front of a wall with the logo and gestured for Clarke to stand behind him.

He tucked Clarke under his arm, leaving enough distance that their sweaty bodies didn’t have to touch.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell any of us that you’re married…” the girl said to Clarke, who smiled awkwardly in return.

“Bellamy’s masculinity is just a little too fragile for spin, it took some convincing,” Clarke giggled, elbowing him in the side just a touch too hard.

Bellamy choked on his water a little but nodded, swinging an arm casually around Clarke and ensuring that at least some of his sweat dripped onto her. The good will he had come upon during the class quickly faded away.

“We really should get going, Clarke has an appointment to get a pretty gnarly ingrown toenail looked at. It’s ugly stuff, don’t wanna keep the doc waiting,” he smiled, steering Clarke out of the studio before she had the chance to say anything else.

The second they were away from the window; Clarke violently shrugged his arm off of her. “Get off,” she snapped, digging in her purse for her keys.

“Takes two to tango princess,” Bellamy smirked, following her back into the car.

Clarke’s phone buzzed just as she was about to start the car, it was an airdrop of the picture of her and Bellamy. Annoyingly enough, it was kind of cute. Maybe in another life, she would’ve set it as her lock screen.

XXX

Bellamy sat in his car on Octavia’s driveway, tapping anxiously on the steering wheel. He had been desperately avoiding this part, he had to explain the whole situation to Octavia and therefore accept that this was his reality now.

He took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair but before he had the chance to muster up the courage, the garage door slowly churned open. Octavia’s husband Lincoln came jogging out, decked in full blown running gear.

Bellamy hauled himself out of the car and gave Lincoln a one armed hug.

“The boys will be really happy to see you,” he smiled, slapping Bellamy on the back. “But um, good luck with O…you’re gonna need it.”

Lincoln gave him a sympathetic closed mouth smile and a final pat on the back before he slipped in his headphones and jogged away.

Shaking his head, Bellamy decided to skip the front door and just went through the still open garage, letting himself in through the backdoor.

Octavia was standing at the counter, focusing intently on a Kitchenaid mixer in front of her. Bellamy cleared his throat, knocking lightly on the entryway of the kitchen.

“Glad somebody finally decided to show their face…” Octavia said, flipping off the mixer and turning to lean against the counter. “I just love hearing about my big brother’s wedding through a blurry ass Snapchat story.”

“I’m sorry,” he replied, shoulders sagging at the disappointment in his sister’s face. “I brought you donuts from the place you like in the city, if that helps at all,” he tried, holding up a brown paper bag.

“You’re 2% forgiven,” Octavia shrugged, taking the bag and turning to flip on a coffee machine that looked like a spaceship. “The boys just went down to the beach but if you stay for dinner, I’m sure they’d be thrilled to see you.”

“I can stay,” he smiled broadly, this was exactly what he needed, a few hours off from his life.

Octavia softened a little, handing him a misshapen handmade mug full of coffee and gesturing for him to follow her outside to the deck.

Bellamy sat across of his sister as she folded herself like a pretzel into the chair. For a moment he could almost pretend they were little kids sitting in a fort in their cramped living room instead of adults on the deck of Octavia’s expensive beach cottage. They sat in silence for a while, drinking their coffee and watching the waves flow gently against the sand.

“So, care to explain why you’ve been hiding from me for the past three weeks? I’ve had to resort to getting my information from Murphy of all people. I hate that he knows more about your life than I do!”

“Did he tell you about his new tattoo? It’s a picture of a leaf and it says ‘be-leaf in yourself’, so fucking stupid,” Bellamy tried, attempting to avoid the topic at hand.

“I expect nothing less from the kid that ate a dissection worm on a dare and projectile vomited in the school hallway,” Octavia chucked. “But don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing right now. You went to court and robbed me of the opportunity to sit in the audience and dramatically gasp!”

Bellamy sighed, he had never been able to get anything past his sister and she had only gotten better at calling him out on his shit after she became a mom. He broke and explained the whole situation to Octavia, starting with him getting fired and finishing with last night when he and Clarke had gotten into a blowout argument over whether to turn the thermostat down. He had been so mad he slept in the bathtub.

“Jesus Bell, who knew that Gina setting all your clothes on fire in college would be the least amount of trouble your dick would get you into,” Octavia said, taking an enormous bite of her donut.

“Please don’t ever bring that up again…”

“Your terrible love life somehow overshadowed you basically winning the lottery. That’s an impressive feat.”

“Hey! Not all of us met the love of our life on the first day of college and rode off into beach mansion paradise,” Bellamy answered defensively. Octavia had literally never dated, she didn’t get how hard it was out there.

“Yeah, Yeah, dating sucks…everyone keeps telling me that but dammit Bell. You can’t blame dating for this. Give yourself a fucking chance.”

“What the hell?! Didn’t you hear me O? I’m not complaining about being single right now! I got MARRIED and if I can’t make it look like I can tolerate her, then I lose 1.5 million dollars,” he snapped, slamming his coffee cup down on the table. “Do you have any idea what that kind of money could do for me? I could start my own business.”

“Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something, what’re the odds that you would meet someone who lives in the same city as you halfway across the country, hit the lotto with her AND end up married? The stats on that are mind blowing, I wish I was better at math just so I could run the numbers on that one. It never occurred to you to give this a chance? You could have a wife **and **3 million dollars,” Octavia said, voice softening.

“Well if she gets sick enough of me, there’s a chance she could forfeit the money and I would still get it all.”

“Is there any person in sane America that would do that?”

“I thought she might after I took of the toilet seat but I guess not.”

“Jesus Bell, do you hear yourself right now? Why are you trying to make your life difficult?”

“Because there’s a better chance of her giving up than there is of us falling in love!”

“Why do you have it in your head that you’re so hard to love? This situation has so much potential,”

“If you knew her you wouldn’t be saying that…” he countered, growing irritated that his sister wasn’t understanding what was going on.

“Do you have a picture of her that isn’t blurry or of you making out?” she asked, completely ignoring his argument.

Bellamy sighed in frustration but pulled out his phone, the photo of him and Clarke at the cycle studio was at the front of his camera roll and he turned it to show his sister.

“You guys look good together,” Octavia grinned, zooming in on the picture so she could see Clarke’s face more clearly. “She’s really pretty, I would kill to have boobs like that.”

“Yeah, she’s really hot, the way she looks is clearly not the problem. The problem is that she makes me want to claw my eyes out. She’s the most compulsively anal person I’ve ever met,” he explained, taking his phone back from Octavia.

“Okay fine, she’s neurotic but why do you hate her so much?”

“From the moment we met, we haven’t gotten along. It’s just how it is, it’s not going to change,” Bellamy resigned, he couldn’t believe Octavia was actually trying to convince him to give this thing with Clarke a shot.

“Fine, be unhappy. I’m just saying that this could be a blessing in disguise! If you just let yourself-“

Octavia’s speech was interrupted by two dark haired flashes racing up the stairs of the deck and flying toward them. Before Bellamy could process the movement, they had both jumped into his lap, dripping saltwater onto his clothes.

“Apollo, Eros, let your uncle breathe!” Octavia chided as both boys wrapped their arms around Bellamy’s neck.

Bellamy stood up quickly swinging the boys in circles and growling, “Too late! They’ve activated the Bellamy monster!”

The boys squealed with joy, climbing Bellamy like a tree as he spun in circles.

“How’re my two favorite sea minnows!” he asked, putting them both down on the deck and adjusting their towels around their boney shoulders.

The boys began to excitedly chatter about their day at the beach and how they had been practicing for their upcoming soccer game. Bellamy felt a pang of guilt, he was supposed to be their assistant coach but he had neglected the practices since his life had gone to shit.

“I’ll be at practice this week for sure, I can’t wait to see your corner kicks,” he assured, scooping up Eros and carrying him into the house as Octavia made her way inside with Apollo.

The boys raced upstairs to change into their pajamas and Octavia turned to dig at something in a crockpot.

“You better not bail on that soccer practice, Apollo cried when you missed the last one,” Octavia warned, spooning chili into bowls.

“Ouch, right in the heart. I won’t,” Bellamy agreed, moving to set plates around the table.

“Bring your wife, I want to meet her.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea…”

“If she’s as bad as you say then I’ll leave you alone, but more likely, she’s not and I have grounds to call you out,” Octavia shrugged, pulling a tray of cornbread from the oven.

A knot set in Bellamy stomach over how he was going to approach this whole situation with Clarke but if he knew anything about his sister it was that she didn’t let things go.

“Fine, but if you say anything to her about soulmates…I know where you live. Leave the crystals at home,” he resigned, sinking into a plush dining room chair.

Octavia laughed and shoved his shoulder, “You don’t scare me.”

XXX

Clarke tapped her charcoal stick against her knee, leaving black smudge marks on her exposed skin. It had been ages since she had time to draw. The stress of her marriage coupled with Jasper’s refusal to listen to her had completely blocked any semblance of creativity. Her paper sat blankly in her lap, mocking her.

It hadn’t helped that her mother had called this morning, interrupting her first Bellamy free workout in more than a week. Clarke’s mother was high powered marketing director and never failed to stress Clarke out about her slowly progressing career. Abby had expected Clarke to be partnered at her PR firm last year and had loudly expressed her distaste at the fact that she hadn’t gotten there yet.

She had called Clarke this morning to let her know that Ark Magazine’s 30 under 30 had been released and Well’s Jaha had been selected for his groundbreaking work as a financial engineer. Notably, Clarke had not made the cut. In addition to rubbing salt in the wound, she had wanted to remind her that they were due for their monthly dinner next Friday.

Since her life had unraveled into a total shitshow in the past few weeks, her monthly check-ins with her mom had completely slipped her mind. After a monumental explosion over Clarke canceling her page six wedding in favor of a Vegas wedding officiated by Elvis, Abby had been continually demanding to meet Bellamy. It had been easily avoidable with work related excuses, but it seemed like it was time to face the music.

Clarke had conveniently left out the little detail that her and Bellamy hated each other, she didn’t need her mother prying further into the situation. As far as Abby knew, she had a whirlwind romance and was enamored with her husband.

As much as it pained her to pretend to like Bellamy, Abby couldn’t find out about the jackpot money. At least not right now. Clarke intended to use her half of the prize money to quit her soulless job and pursue something she actually wanted. A fact which would inevitably lead to an explosively volatile reaction from her mother.

It was times like this that Clarke wished her dad was still alive. He would’ve understood, she could’ve told him the truth. Sometimes Clarke thought that if he had never gotten sick, she would’ve found the courage to change her major back in college.

Honestly, as much as she hated to admit it, Jake would’ve gotten a huge amount of satisfaction from the fact that Clarke had accidentally married a contractor. Her dad had been an architect by trade, but his real passion was in building houses. He had always talked about starting a contracting business when he retired, but he had obviously never gotten the chance. She wondered whether he would’ve like Bellamy, Jake had always had a way of finding the good in everyone.

When she was little, Clarke used to sit on the floor of his office and sketch random things while he worked. A coffee mug, a book, a map but her favorite thing to work on had been a raggedy, patchwork armchair that he kept from college. She had never managed to get the pattern quite right, but she could still see the knit of colors if she thought hard enough.

Without really thinking, Clarke started to sketch the chair. It was mindless, a way for her to zone out and forget everything in her life that was stressing her out. By the time she had finished, the apartment was almost dark. Just as she was wondering where Bellamy was, his key clicked in the lock and the door swung open.

He frowned and flipped the light on, jumping when he realized Clarke was curled over the kitchen counter.

“My sister made chili and cornbread, she insisted I bring you some,” he shrugged, setting a Trader Joe’s bag in front of her before disappearing further into the apartment. Clarke balked for a second staring at the bag cautiously. Between her painting and her argument with her mom, she had completely forgotten to eat.

It seemed harmless enough, she doubted Bellamy would actually resort to poisoning her, so she reached into the bag and started on re-heating the food.

By the time she had settled down on the couch with her dinner, Bellamy emerged from the bathroom with wet hair.

“This is ridiculously good…” Clarke admitted, breaking off a piece of her cornbread. “Thank your sister for me, I would kill someone for this cornbread.”

“She’s a professional chef,” Bellamy laughed, reaching into the fridge to grab a beer. “Her and her husband own this trendy place on the northside.”

Clarke stirred her chili, the call with her mother sitting heavily on her. She had to figure out a way to bring up dinner to him. It was likely he would say no, but she didn’t really know what other options she had.

He flopped on the couch beside her, tucking his legs under his body and reaching for the remote. This had become their nightly ritual, stately ignoring each other while watching TV. It was comforting in a way and the only time they co-existed peacefully.

Clarke was about to bring up dinner but before she had the chance, Bellamy shifted his body to face hers. He looked nervous too and Clarke was a little taken aback.

“I have kind of a weird thing to ask you,” he began, running a hand through his hair. “My sister wants to meet you. We’re really close, it was just the two of us for the most part growi  
“?ng up and she’s pretty upset I got married without telling her. It wouldn’t be a big deal at all just an afternoon in the park and some lunch. My nephews will be there and they’re super cute…” he rambled, eyes flitting around the apartment before finally settling on hers.

Clarke felt some of her nerves dissipate, this was perfect. It was mutually beneficial; he would meet her mom and she would meet his sister. It honestly made the whole thing a lot less complicated. Plus, she had to meet the woman responsible for the amazing food sitting in front of her.

“This actually works out perfectly, I have a monthly dinner with my mom next Friday and I kind of need you to come. One family obligation each?” Clarke answered, scraping the sides of her bowl for the last few bites of chili.

“That was way too easy…what’re you not telling me?” he asked, shifting so that he could fully meet her gaze.

“Not everything has to have an ulterior motive!”

“I spend like two minutes convincing you to have lunch with my sister who’s relatively harmless and you literally just threw in dinner with your mom like it was no biggie. That was way too eager.”

“My mom can be a little bit intense but it’s nothing too crazy, it’s just dinner!”

“What do you mean by a little intense?”

Clarke faltered for a minute; she hadn’t expected him to be able to read her so easily. She didn’t really want to, but she needed to be relatively honest with him because he had to play along with her act. The way he had said it, his sister knew the whole situation so his request of her was a lot milder than what she was asking of him. Abby Griffin had made many grown men cry.

“Remember the fake lovey dovey act that we did with Maya? We would need to do something similar with my mother. Maybe less sexual though,” Clarke said carefully, cheeks flushing lightly as she remembered how she had involuntarily ground against his dick.

“Your mom doesn’t know the truth?” Bellamy balked, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. He was kind of shocked, he had pegged Clarke as the kind of girl who had an obsessively close relationship with her mom.

“She’s already pissed that I didn’t marry her DAR friend’s suitable son in a wedding that she could brag about for three hundred years. If she finds out that this whole thing is a sham, then I’ll lose any semblance of dignity I have left.”

For a second, Clarke looked surprisingly vulnerable and whatever jab Bellamy had been about to make died on his lips. He didn’t really feel right about kicking her when she was already down, and he didn’t exactly want to antagonize her when he needed something from her too.

“Alright, I’ll play along,” he agreed, turning back toward the TV.

“Thank you,” Clarke said quietly, surprised at how easily he had agreed. “I’m kind of excited to meet your sister. I’m about to lick this bowl clean.”

“If you tell her that, she’ll like you immediately,” Bellamy chuckled, taking a sip from his beer.

XXX

“Did you see the email from Maya? Her cat is sick, so she cancelled our therapy appointment and gave us a homework assignment,” Clarke said leaning in the bathroom door as Bellamy shaved. From where she was standing, she could see the muscles in his back flex as he moved. The planes of them were mesmerizing and Clarke had to remind herself who they belonged to multiple times to prevent herself from leaning forward and running her hands across his shoulders.

“What the hell? Homework? From therapy? That’s annoying, she’s like the narc teacher,” Bellamy groaned, tapping his razor against the sink.

Clarke’s gaze drifted from Bellamy’s back to the shift of the muscles in his arms. She was silent for a few moments before she realized that he was waiting for her to respond.

“She wants us to go on a date and send her pictures,” Clarke sighed.

“Awesome, we can just go to the gym. I was planning on going anyway.”

“The woman really covers her bases because she said we have to do something other than watch a screen or go to the gym.”

“Shit, we need to get better at lying to her,” he said, washing off the razor and turning to face her. He crossed his arms across his chest and this time Clarke could feel her entire body heating up. She turned swiftly on her heel, she needed to get away from shirtless Bellamy and this steamy bathroom before she said or did something stupid. It had been way too long since she had sex if she was starting to lust after her annoying husband.

“I googled date ideas but honestly most of these are weird or dumb,” Clarke said, flopping down on the armchair.

“Of course you googled it.”

“Well do you have a better idea?”

Bellamy made a dumb face at her before resigning and turning to his phone as well.

“Farmer’s Market?” Clarke suggested, perking up at the idea of fresh cold brew and organic strawberries.

“Hello no, I’m not walking in circles just to pay $20 bucks for gluten free zucchini bread sold to me by an anti-vaxxer.”

“Farmers Markets are important for the community!” Clarke tried, but Bellamy remained unconvinced.

“Paintball?” Bellamy tried, holding up a picture of a local store.

“I’d rather not give you a reason to shoot me.”

“Fair enough.”

They both sat and stared at each other awkwardly, desperately scrolling through cheesy Pinterest lists to find an idea.

“When I was driving up to Octavia’s I saw a sign for kayaking on the lagoon. It’s early enough in the morning that we might be able to see dolphins?” Bellamy suggested, searching the kayak rental place on his phone.

“That actually doesn’t sound too bad,” Clarke shrugged, “But can we stop for food on the way? I’m starving.”

Bellamy nodded in agreement and turned back to his area of the apartment, digging though his drawers for a swimsuit. He groaned when he realized he only had a pair of chubbies from a pool party a few years ago, they had cartoon ducks on them and were uncomfortably short. They were embarrassing as hell, but he didn’t really have another option.

Setting his pride aside, he tugged them on and threw some clothes into a bag for later. Satisfied with his packing job, he went to the kitchen to throw some beers into a cooler.

“Do you mind? I can’t reach and I burn like crazy,” Clarke mumbled awkwardly, holding up a bottle of spray sunscreen.

Bellamy’s mind went partially blank as he took in her dark red bikini top and tiny shorts. He knew she could tell he was staring but her bare boobs peaking out of the sides of the triangles were making it hard to think.

Clarke quirked a small smile and shook the bottle again, tossing it toward him. Bellamy could feel his neck heating as he caught the bottle and moved close enough to spray her. The air felt thick as he reached out to brush her hair off to one side and felt a rush of satisfaction when she shivered at the movement.

Leaving one hand resting on her shoulder, he carefully sprayed the sunscreen across and down her back. His eyes traced the line of the spray as it hit her skin, using his fingers to rub it in where it pooled on the back of her neck. She let out a soft breath and he could feel his dick hardening in his already too short shorts. There were barely a few centimeters between them and he resisted the strong urge to pull her up against him as he slid his hand from her shoulder to her waist, running the cool spray down to her lower back.

Clarke could feel her pulse pounding in her ears as Bellamy’s fingers dug lightly into her ribcage. The heat pooling between her legs was shifting rapidly to an ache. It would only take one step for her to press her ass up against him. His hand was massive, spanning almost her entire torso and it was burning a hole into her skin from where it sat. She longed for him to slide it forward and touch her where she ached for him to. She knew the rough pads of his fingers would feel incredible pressed up against her clit.

She hadn’t really intended for her sunscreen to have sparked such a physical reaction, but it felt too good for her to really fight it. For just a moment, she could just appreciate her very sexy husband and his large, perfect hands.

The hiss of the spray stopped and they both stood motionless, heavy breathing cutting through the thick silence. Clarke could feel herself leaning back and their bodies almost touching when her phone rang. The shrill ringing was like a cold bucket of water and they both quickly jumped apart, eyes still a little glossed over.

Clarke whipped around to grab her phone, trying desperately to avoid Bellamy’s gaze but she couldn’t help the flick of her eyes to where his hands were adjusting his shorts.

The shorts themselves were ridiculous but they left little to the imagination. Her eyes traced up his thick muscled quads to the sizable bulge and then back up to the dark trail of hair at the top of his shorts, framed by the sharp cut of his hipbones.

Ignoring the urge to stick her hand down the front of her shorts, Clarke answered the call, stifling a groan when she realized it was Maya.

“Hi Maya,” she said loudly, overemphasizing the therapist’s name so Bellamy could hear. She paused listening the her for a moment while Bellamy ignored her and dipped into the bathroom.

Clarke tuned Maya out while she eyed the bathroom door. She wondered what Bellamy was doing back there. The thought of him jerking off sent a chill down her spine as she longed for her vibrator, wishing she could do something about the heat trapped under her skin.

Maya finished up her detailed explanation of how to document their date and Clarke mumbled her acknowledgement before quickly hanging up the phone, pressing her head against her fist. This wasn’t supposed to happen, she wasn’t supposed to want to have sex with her husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bow chicka wow wow, we're headed into the fun zone. I usually stick to the mature lane so I'm pretty new to this explicit stuff, hopefully you guys like what I've had planned! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's supported this story so far. I'm having a ton of fun writing it. I'm always open to thoughts and suggestions just let me know! I love hearing from you guys, especially parts you liked vs parts you didn't. 
> 
> If anyone is interested betaing or just reading for plot details let me know! (If you've collabed with me before my old gmail got hacked so please contact me on here instead).
> 
> p.s I couldn't resist the Greek mythology names for Octavia's kiddos


	6. 30 under 30

_ _

* * *

_Clarke followed a drop of water as it rolled slowly from Bellamy’s neck and down each ridge of his abs, the drop faltering as it bounced from ridge to ridge. The rush of the shower pattered lightly in the background, clouding Clarke’s ears like white noise and she could feel the sticky heat of it on her skin. The water droplet caught in the dip of his bellybutton, stopping just short of the dark, curly trail of hair sitting just above his towel. She bent forward, lacing her hands with his, marveling at how they completely consumed hers. From this angle, he looked huge, broad shoulders spanning for miles. She began pressing light kisses across his skin. She pressed her lips against every inch of his body, reveling in the smoothness of his skin against hers. She paused at the cut of his hip, nipping a light bruise, marking her territory. His hand wrapped firmly around her hair, giving it a firm tug when- _

“Clarke! Cllarrrkeeeee! We have a meeting in like five minutes,” a voice echoed, shaking Clarke from the haze of her fantasy. Blinking rapidly, she realized she had fallen asleep at work with her face pressed up against her keyboard. And, not only had she fallen asleep, but she had had a sex dream about her husband…in her office.

“Are you okay? You look a little flushed,” her assistant asked, disappearing behind the door, presumably to get a bottle of water for her.

There was a slight uncomfortable stickiness between her legs, coupled with a dull ache. Clarke groaned and shifted in her desk chair. These sex dreams had become increasingly common since their date on Sunday. The incident with the sunscreen had set her body on fire and she found herself thinking about Bellamy far more frequently than she cared to admit. She had never been more insatiably horny in her life.

The whole situation was driving her crazy and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. Even if her body was screaming for Bellamy to touch her, she could never actually let that happen, he still sucked. And she couldn’t have sex with anyone else, she would for sure lose the money if she got caught. All that left her with was a cheap sex toy she had gotten as a gag gift in college. It wasn’t sex with a tall, dark and handsome man, but it did the job.

Before Clarke could analyze her daydream further, her assistant reappeared with a bottle of water and a sheepish looking Jasper Jordan in tow.

XXX

Bellamy typed aimlessly at an Excel spreadsheet, he was supposed to be running numbers for his new business but he couldn’t really focus on the task at hand. He was about to give up and make himself some lunch, when there was a sharp knock on the door.

Assuming it was an Amazon package, he ignored it, standing up to root through the fridge. The sharp knock happened again and Bellamy sighed, he hated door to door salesman more than anything.

He swung the door open to reveal a fancy looking guy in a beige suit, he closely resembled a Vineyard Vines model from 2015. He had propped his arm against the door on purpose, just to flex his expensive looking watch. Bellamy already hated the guy.

“Heeeeey, I don’t know if you know who I am, but I used to date Clarke? I told her I would be stopping by to pick up my grandma’s ring?” the guy said, cocking what Bellamy assumed was supposed to be a charming smile.

“Whatever,” Bellamy grunted gesturing for him to come in, “She didn’t say anything to me but that’s not really out of the ordinary.”

“She said to just ask you,” he shrugged, eyes scanning the apartment.

“I think she left it in the bathroom cabinet.”

Bellamy felt himself growing more and more irritated by the guy in front of him but dipped into the bathroom, hoping the ring was where he remembered so that he would just leave.

The ring was tucked into the cabinet, hidden behind a bottle of undereye cream and Bellamy grabbed it. He was tempted to toss it at the guy but he seriously doubted his ability to catch it and didn’t feel like spending the rest of the afternoon crawling around on the floor looking for a diamond that cost more than Bellamy’s entire life.

Vineyard Vines model smiled smugly at the ring and nodded at Bellamy before leaving without a word. The whole situation was strange and uncomfortable, but Bellamy was just relieved that it was over. He disregarded the whole thing, turning his focus back to his spreadsheet. For a moment, he considered texting Clarke to let her know what had happened, but he decided against it. Clarke had sent the guy here when she was at work on purpose, so she had obviously been trying to avoid the entire situation, there was no need for him to dwell on it.

XXX

“Jasper leaked information about some unreleased video game, the memo says they think he might get sued,” Clarke’s assistant panted, yanking open the heavy, sliding metal door to Clarke’s office. “Dioyza is coming in five minutes, prepare yourself in advance.”

Before Clarke could even process what she had said, her computer pinged with 13 emails and her assistant cowered as Dioyza pushed past her and into Clarke’s office.

“I am going to find Jasper Jordan, cover him with papercuts and dip him in rubbing alcohol,” Dioyza fumed, throwing a stack of papers onto Clarke’s desk as she sat heavily in the chair across from her.

Clarke quickly shifted through the papers, scanning the summaries of the videos and the information leaked. There was a copy of Jasper’s agreement with the game company, marked heavily in multiple different colors of pen by the legal team. She sighed heavily, browsing the papers and the statements.

“No matter how many times we tell this guy to stop posting, he just can’t help himself,” Clarke sighed, readjusting the papers into a neat stack.

“He’s an empty headed joystick wielding idiot. I hate Yotubers. After that time we handled that make-up girl who went on The Bachelor and got exposed for having a boyfriend the entire time, I swore we would never do this again. I should have trusted my gut.”

“That girl was a sociopath…I genuinely think Jasper is just socially unaware and too smart for his own good.”

“Whatever he is, if he gets sued then there’s nothing we can do. People already don’t like him,” Dioyza snapped, tapping her pointed fingernails against the sparkling water can she was holding.

Clarke paused, flipping through the papers again before holding up her finger and turning toward her computer. She clicked through Jasper’s analytics from Google, Youtube and Instagram, staring at the trend graphs from the beginning of his problems to now.

There was a small blip in his engagement after the apology video and she clicked on it. From his social media comments, it seemed that the video had made people believe he erred on the side of dumb rather than malicious. For the most part, the hysteria had seemed to die down after the curated tweets had gone out, following up his apology. His graph had evened out in the meantime, meaning that it was unlikely the backlash from the leak had hit the general public.

“It’s not totally unsalvageable, look at this,” Clarke urged, turning her screen to show her boss the trends.

Diozya’s face contorted from fury to something more contemplative as she looked from the screen to Clarke and back.

“That…is promising, I had been putting off looking at those because I assumed that pathetic video would’ve turned people off. Not exactly good but-“ she began, but before she could finish, Jasper Jordan himself came bursting into the office.

“I can explain, for once, this isn’t my fault,” He exclaimed, excitedly waving a thin binder around in the air. “I didn’t violate my promo contact with the company, I just shared a bunch of images and info I found on Reddit. I took some leaked stuff and used it as a thumbnail, it’s standard clickbait stuff in the industry. It’s all like fair use right? Some dude named PM_DUCKmemes should be getting all these threats. Not me!”

Dioyza yanked the binder from Jasper’s hands and began aggressively flipping through it while Clarke went on Reddit to find the user in question. Sure enough, PM_DUCKmemes and a few others had posted the same images and provided very similar gameplay info to the video that Jasper had made.

“I was about to fire you as a client, but you may have just saved your own ass,” Dioyza said after almost ten minutes of complete silence.

“The company sent some guy to my house too, he was asking me all sorts of weird questions about the leaks but I told him that he needed to speak with my management,” Jasper continued, looking eagerly between them both.

Clarke gave him a soft smile, he almost looked like a lost puppy. “That was a good call,” she assured.

“This is good. You’re within your rights here. Your contract states that you aren’t allowed to disclose trusted information or trade secrets but I don’t really think this falls under that. Plus they’re badgering you and trying to intimidate you,” Clarke continued, sifting through the binder that Diozya had left on the desk. “I think I have a plan but if they’re coming to your house then you need to stay with a friend until we deal with this. Can you call Monty?”

Jasper nodded and left the room, leaving the two women to flesh out whether or not Jasper lost his career for good.

Diozya folded her hands over her can and looked expectantly at Clarke. Clarke knew a test if she had ever seen one, and this was a test.

“He’s not at fault here, I think we test out public perception of him and if people find him generally sympathetic then we should start to funnel in an outrage campaign against the company. They’re intimidating their content creators, it’s textbook evil corporation. If it sticks well enough, we could probably throw around a hashtag to boycott the most recent game? It makes Jasper look like a vigilante fighting against the big bad guys, total image recomp. Downside it would terminate ties with the company, but I think ship already sailed.”

“Excellent game plan,” Dioyza grinned, giving Clarke a satisfied nod. ”This is solid. If it works, then I absolutely think that you have a good chance of making partner.”

Clarke halfheartedly returned the smile, “I really think it’s going to work. But how do we get a read of our audience with being obvious?”

“Oh, that’s easy. You, Harper and your respective significant others are now Jasper’s posse. You just got married, correct? Harper’s boyfriend has already been in a few videos and the two of you are young and pretty. It’s very straightforward. You all can attend that convention that’s coming up together and lament about how unfair the situation is. Organic momentum is the best momentum,” Diozya said simply, pushing up from her chair in a seemingly much better mood than she had been only an hour before. “Have your assistant book tickets for you and your husband.”

Without waiting for Clarke’s response, Dioyza breezed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Clarke groaned, banging her head against the table. She had just had a sexual awakening about her husband and now she had to had to share a hotel room with him…fantastic.

XXX

An old episode of The Office echoed off the walls of their apartment as Clarke raced anxiously between her pop-up closet and the bathroom. The dress she had planned to wear had been more low cut than she had expected and there was no way she could wear it for dinner with her mother. All of her suitable attire reminded her of Finn. She wrinkled her nose and threw the silk shirt from Finn’s birthday under her couch bed.

“Are you going to dive headfirst into that pile of clothes later, Scrooge McDuck?” Bellamy asked, strolling toward Clarke from the bathroom. He had on an ArkU sports polo and khaki shorts and couldn’t quite figure out exactly what she was doing.

Clarke froze with a dress in each hand and eyed Bellamy from head to toe. He felt a rush of satisfaction pulse over him until he realized that she wasn’t evaluating him appreciatively.

“You cannot wear that,” she said simply, turning to dig a rubber bin out of from under the bed and root through another huge pile of clothes.

“We’re just going to your mom’s house, right?”

“Yes but my mother believes that dinner is an event and people should dress as such,” Clarke rattled off robotically, the way she said it made it seem like she had been told the phrase thousands of times before.

Eying Clarke’s frenzy with a hint of concern, Bellamy turned back to his closet to dig out his dress pants and collared shirt. He would have to look up a Youtube video on how to do a fancy tie knot, he had a feeling Clarke’s mom would be the type of person to notice something like that.

Two full episodes of The Office later, Bellamy leaned back against the couch, tugging the knot of his tie nervously. Some of Clarke’s neurotic energy had seeped into the air and Bellamy could feel a ball of tension beginning to form between his shoulders. He had seen her act high strung before but never quite like this.

She finally emerged in a demure emerald green dress, it was tight but not provocatively so and a thin layer of lace went all the way down to her mid-calf. Her hair was twisted into an intricate braided crown and small pearls hung loosely from her ears. Bellamy paused when he caught sight of her. He had always fully understood that Clarke was hot, but he had never really looked at her closely enough to think she was beautiful.

But in that dress, with the long line of her neck exposed, the word beautiful echoed repeatedly in his head, bouncing around the walls of his skull.

“You look great princess,” he assured, the nickname seeming more fitting that ever before. Still a little thrown off by his sudden realization, he stuck out his elbow to help her balance on her heels.

She smiled at him, adjusting the expensive bottle of white wine they were bringing to her opposite hand so she could wrap her fingers around his offered bicep.

“We should go, if we’re late my mother will never let you forget it,” Clarke said nervously, digging her fingers into his arm. “I know you think I’m kidding but she will legitimately buy you a watch for Christmas.”

Bellamy’s confusion over Clarke’s mother grew, he was genuinely unsure what to expect. He knew her mom was fancy, but he didn’t really have a ton of exposure to rich people and Clarke was making her seem like some sort of ice queen.

The car ride was pretty tense as Clarke repeated their marriage cover story over and over, “You were helping do the renovations in my firm and liked me from afar for almost a year. We were friends and just kind of realized we were in love,” she parroted.

“Does she know about Vegas? Or did we elope at a B&B in Maine or something?”

“She knows about Vegas but downplay it if you can. If she asks then just make it seem as tasteful as possible.”

Bellamy was about highlight the ridiculousness of the situation when the car rounded a corner and they came upon an absolutely massive wrought iron gate. There was a small hut with a man seated inside and Bellamy pulled up in the window. Clarke leaned across the console and waved at the man who nodded in acknowledgement and raised the gate while Bellamy sat dumbfounded in the driver’s seat.

The neighborhood was huge, peppered with massive mansions separated by small forests of trees. Each house sat on a hill and was highlighted by spotlights. Bellamy had never seen homes like this, not even during his time in construction. In another era of time, these would be called castles.

The further into the development they got, the houses became larger and less frequent until they reached a section that looked like it was almost entirely comprised of trees. At the end of the street there was another smaller gate to which Clarke gave him the code for.

Bellamy was in sheer disbelief by the time they reached Clarke’s mother’s house, it was the biggest home they had seen so far. It was huge, imposing and paved with expensive looking white bricks. If he had to guess, he would say that it was about the size of a standard elementary school.

“You grew up here?” Bellamy gaped, once they had climbed out of the car.

“No, my dad hated stuff like this. My mom and step-dad moved here a few years ago,” Clarke shrugged, lacing her fingers with his and dragging him to the front door. She took a heavy breath before banging the lion headed brass knocker.

Abby Griffin was thankfully not wearing a ballgown, but she was wearing a diamond ring that definitely cost more than Bellamy’s car. She smiled softly at them both, greeting her daughter and introducing herself to Bellamy as she shepherded them into the house. The whole thing was oddly formal, and he left his hand laced around Clarke’s, by the looks of it, she needed all the help she could get.

There was a salt and peppered haired man waiting for them in the sitting room and he stood to introduce himself to them. The man and Clarke greeted one another awkwardly, side hugging and exchanging odd pleasantries.

The whole thing was very Stepford wives and it was making Bellamy’s skin crawl. He rested his glass of scotch on his knee and placed his other hand on Clarke’s thigh, stilling it from the compulsive bouncing that it was doing. They were still in the realm of basic small talk right now and it was good, a bit uncomfortable but not in the danger zone yet.

Abby was atypically friendly toward Bellamy, eyes flitting from his hand on Clarke’s thigh to the small fake engagement ring that she had been wearing since Vegas. He relaxed slightly against the couch, hoping that the evening remained uneventful.

Surprisingly, their cocktail and first course were pleasant, and it turned out the Clarke’s stepdad had a decent sense of humor. By the time the main course was being brought out, Bellamy felt a lot more relaxed and even found himself cracking a few jokes with the older man. Clarke on the other hand was still wound super tight, Bellamy had faint, half moon crescent marks on the side of his wrist from where her fingernails had been digging into his arm earlier.

He wasn’t exactly sure why she was acting so strangely but he pushed his musings away as a housekeeper placed a large white plate with sliced steak and potatoes in front of him. For a while, they ate in silence with only the scrape of forks against plates.

“Did you have a chance to read the 30 under 30 feature?” Abby asked, looking up from her plate to eye Clarke.

“Not yet,” Clarke shrugged, stiffening slightly.

“Wells is so accomplished it’s really just so spectacular, Thelonious is so proud. A successful company and an upcoming wedding! I met his fiancé at the library fundraiser last weekend, she’s lovely as well. She graduated top of her class from TonDC nursing,” Abby continued, her tone was light but there was an odd undertone to the happiness she was trying to portray.

“Oh really, I hadn’t met her yet.”

Abby nodded and for a moment Bellamy thought the awkward interaction was over, but she just paused to take a sip of wine before continuing, “Marcus got her in touch with some neonatal surgical people so I think she’ll be working with him soon. She’s quite pretty, I would love to use her for a hospital promotion at some point. It’ll be just wonderful for Thelonious to have his daughter in-law at the hospital.”

Clarke’s hand was clenched tightly around her fork, knuckles turning white from the force. In that moment, all of his animosity with Clarke didn’t really seem to matter and Bellamy reached out to gently place a hand on her leg, squeezing lightly to reassure her and to keep her from lunging across the table.

“Why don’t we talk about something else?” Marcus suggested, nudging his wife’s hands.

“I was just talking about how happy I am for a close family friend, I don’t see the problem,” Abby answered, demurely taking a bite of her steak.

“The problem is that once again you can never just let me do things the way that I want,” Clarke snapped, slamming her knife down on the table.

Bellamy winced, but kept his hand on her leg, using his thumb to rub small, careful circles against the lace of her dress. Part of him wanted to argue with her mother but it wasn’t his place to get involved.

“I wanted to go to design school but that wasn’t good enough for you, so I went to TonDC and I majored in PR! I did super well, got a job at one of the best talent management firms in the country! But then, I don’t immediately make partner so it’s still not good enough for you,” Clarke yelled, body vibrating with her pent up frustration. “But wait, it’s not just my career. I dated a boy that you approved of for seven years and guess what? He dumped me! So once again, you aren’t happy.”

“You’re being ridiculous Clarke…please calm down. I am tired of having this argument with you over and over,” Abby said exasperatedly, rubbing her thumb with her temple.

“I spent so many years trying to be your version of perfect and it isn’t working for me. I’m tired mom. So if you can’t accept that I’m not partner and that I got married in Vegas to a guy you didn’t pick for me, then I don’t know what to say.”

“Clarke, you are an adult. I’m not forcing you to do anything. Live your life the way you please but please don’t blame me for your lack of work ethic and ambition,” Abby said coldly, turning her gaze away from Clarke and focusing on her dinner.

Clarke let out and exasperated sigh, her body was still tense but she looked beat down.

The rest of their dinner passed tensely, Abby and Clarke were locked in a stalemate while Bellamy and Marcus struggled to keep the room from freezing over. The women traded the occasional barb but it never progressed beyond a few comments back and forth. By the time dessert had arrived, Clarke looked sufficiently beat down and exhausted.

Bellamy’s neck was hot from the tension in the room and he would’ve rather been anywhere else in world, but he was kind of glad he had come. This glimpse at Clarke’s mom’s behavior explained so much about the aggressive, high strung, overbearing version of Clarke that he had seen in the past month. She was a product of this very cold and high pressure environment, but it didn’t seem like she really wanted to be acting this way. The haughty look on Abby’s face caused a surge of protectiveness in Bellamy, he suddenly wanted to shield Clarke from all this.

“It was a pleasure to meet you both,” Bellamy smiled, setting his expresso cup down on the wide oak coffee table. “But I coach my nephews in little league soccer on Saturdays and we have a pretty early start so I think we should get going,” he said, nudging Clarke lightly in the side.

Clarke flashed him a wide eyed look and nodded at her mother, moving to stand up and leave. Their goodbyes were even more awkward and formal than their greetings, filled with halfhearted promises to get together again soon. It wasn’t until they were settled back into the car that Clarke seemed to actually relax.

“You were great in there. I’m sorry you had to sit through that. Thank you so much for coming,” Clarke murmured, reaching across the console to take Bellamy’s hand once again. Her crowned hair-do had come undone at the front, framing her face gently.

She held his hand in hers, tracing the back of his knuckles with the pads of her fingers. Tonight had been rough, she had stood up to her mother before and it always seemed to fall on deaf ears. Usually, this argument would have left her in tears and caused her to storm out of the house but having Bellamy beside her had made her feel less alone.

“That was…. harsh and really uncomfortable. Is your mom always like that?” Bellamy asked, pulling her hands into his lap and reaching out to tuck one of her stray curls behind her ear.

“If anything, she’s become kinder with age. When I was in high school, she laughed and ripped up my SAT scores because they weren’t quite up to par…in front of her DAR friends.”

“Jesus…Clarke…”

Bellamy didn’t really know what to say. It wasn’t his place to bash her mother and he wasn’t exactly well versed in complimenting his wife, but he wished there was a way for him to make her feel better. He wanted to assure her that her mother was wrong and that Clarke didn’t need to act so wired all the time just to impress her. The feel of her much smaller hand in his made him made something in his chest twist.

“It’s fine, I’m used to it really. Sometimes I just reach my breaking point with her. Wells Jaha was one of my childhood friends, my mother always hoped we would date because he’s everything that she always wanted in a kid. He’s always kind of been a sore spot for me,” Clarke explained.

“Well he sounds like a stuffy snob and your mom underestimates you,” Bellamy shrugged, eyes briefly drifting from the navigation to Clarke. Her eyes were glassed over a little and she gave him a watery smile, squeezing his hand with hers.

It wasn’t much, but it felt like a turning point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally going to include the meeting with Octavia but it was turning into a monster and I didn't want to post a 10,000 word chapter. I've been in the car a lot so I got a lot of writing done, so hopefully updates will be pretty consistent now!!!!!!!
> 
> Thank you all for commenting, kudosing and reading, it means so much to me! Love you all genuinely it makes my entire day to hear your thoughts. 
> 
> I essentially gave Clarke my job, so the subplot kind of took on a life of its own. I love writing it but I didn't really intend for it to happen. I would love to know whether you guys are interested in it or not because the next few chapters have a few bits about Jasper but I can always cut them if its something you guys don't really enjoy reading. 
> 
> Have a safe and happy Thanksgiving (if you celebrate)! Non-denominational blessings to all :)


	7. The Parent Trap

* * *

Clarke shifted, readjusting her neck and groaning softly as her spine cracked. Spreading her arms widely, she realized that she had fallen asleep on the couch. There was a light brown fuzzy blanket spread over her legs and she smiled softly. Bellamy had surprised her during dinner at her mother’s, he had handled the whole thing well and she had felt a lot better having him there with her. It was unfamiliar and a little uncomfortable but somehow, they had felt like a team.

“Sorry, I tried to wake you, but I’m pretty sure you growled at me,” Bellamy said, setting a cup of coffee in front of her before settling down across from her with his mug.

Clarke flushed and tried to smooth her hair, taking the mug and sitting up, “Thank you for this. And yeah, I’m kind of a heavy sleeper,” she answered sheepishly.

Bellamy shrugged and kicked his feet onto the coffee table, “Do you want to talk about last night?” he asked carefully, resting his mug against his knee.

“It was pretty standard for me and my mother. If anything she was nicer because you were there.”

“Why do you let her do that? You know she’s totally off base right?”

“I don’t know, it’s kind of the way it's always been. We used to fight a lot more but after my dad died, I didn’t want to rock the boat anymore.”

Bellamy looked at her over the rim of his coffee mug, processing what she had just said. She looked defeated and small, it tugged at his heart in a way he hadn’t expected. He wanted to know more about her, to learn about her dad but she was starting to shell up and he didn’t want to push her too far. The more Clarke shared, the more he wanted to know about her.

“We can reschedule with my sister if you want to. She’s chill and will totally understand if you’re not feeling up to it,” he offered, pushing off of the couch to get dressed for the soccer game. His instincts were telling him not to leave her alone in the apartment but if she wanted space then there’s nothing he could do.

“No, I think some fresh air and little league soccer will do me some good,” Clarke smiled, rubbing leftover mascara out of her eye.

Bellamy felt a wave of relief at her agreement. It would be good for them both to have something to do.

“Okay good! In case you weren’t sure, the dress code is very casual.”

Clarke watched Bellamy’s retreating form as he walked toward his closet, repressing the unfamiliar urge she had to follow him. She wasn’t so much nervous to meet Bellamy’s sister as she was curious. She didn’t know much about Bellamy’s life and his sister was probably the key to a lot of questions she had. Plus she was looking forward to seeing coach Bellamy in action.

She stood up from the couch, wincing as her knees cracked loudly. Her body was no longer equipped to sleep in strange places. She was incredibly sore and in desperate need of a shower.

In stark contrast from the night before, Bellamy found Clarke dressed before he was. She had sprawled back out on the couch in a pair of denim shorts and a worn tank top. She looked at ease in a way he hadn’t seen before and it suited her a hell of a lot more than her usual non-stop movement. His eyes traced the movement of her fingers as they wound the wet strands of her hair into two tight braids. She beamed when she caught sight of him, springing up from the couch enthusiastically. Bellamy resisted the urge to reach out and grab her hand, it felt like the natural thing to do after last night, but it probably wasn’t appropriate outside of emotional support. He wasn’t quite sure where they stood on physical contact and he didn’t know where he wanted them to stand on it either.

The drive to the park was short and they chatted aimlessly with the windows rolled down, enjoying the soft warm breeze as it drifted through the windows.

“So you and your sister are pretty close then?” Clarke asked, dangling her fingers over the glass ridge of the window.

“Yeah my mom died when I was 18, so it was just me and O after that. She’s pretty awesome, calls me out on my shit when I need it,” Bellamy chuckled.

“Gonna take a wild guess here and assume that she calls you out daily,” Clarke teased, shooting him a smile that looked almost fond.

He returned her smile, sneaking a glance at her when the road was clear. They shared a momentary long pause, companionable but not exactly comfortable.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” Clarke said quietly, shifting in her seat so she could face him fully.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” he replied, finally giving in to the urge to place his hand over hers.

Clarke stared at his hand and for a second, Bellamy thought she was going to pull away. But instead, she flipped her palm over and slotted her fingers between his. His hand dwarfed hers and he wrapped his thumb around her wrist. Her pulse thudded gently against his finger, faltering slightly when he rubbed his thumb against the ridge of her finger. They spent the rest of the drive-in silence, letting the music from the radio fill the air with their hands intertwined.

The park by Octavia’s house was wide-spanning and lush, full of tall thick trees and backed by a panoramic view of the ocean. By the time Bellamy and Clarke stepped out of the car, a small herd of boys in matching green uniforms had gathered in one of the fields. Even from the parking lot, they could hear the quiet din of chatter.

As they neared the field, two small boys pulled away from the heard and made a running dive for Bellamy. Seemingly prepared for the greeting, Bellamy knelt on the floor and spread his arms wide. The boys barreled toward his and knocked him over, squealing in delight as they rolled around on the floor.

Cliché or not, Clarke’s heart tightened at the display. It was clear that these boys loved Bellamy to death. They were both excitedly chattering at him, fighting over who would get to tell their story first. Bellamy was assuring the boys that they would both get a turn when a tall brunette woman came up behind them and scooped both the boys off of him.

She was willowy, but she hauled one boy under each arm with ease and turned to Clarke with a broad smile.

“We clearly have excellent manners around here,” she said warmly. “You must be Clarke, I’m Octavia,”

Clarke nodded and returned the smile, bending over to offer Bellamy a hand since he was still lying on his back in the grass.

“I’m Apollo!” one of the boys chirped, wiggling an arm out so he could wave at Clarke.

“And I’m Eros!” the other boy said, voice muffled from where he remained under his mother’s arm.

Both boys wiggled out of her grip and jumped back down onto the floor. Within seconds of their feet hitting the ground, they wrapped themselves around Bellamy’s legs.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Octavia said, throwing an arm around Clarke’s shoulders and leading onto the field. Bellamy trailed behind, slowed by the weight of two seven-year-olds on his legs who were both chatting animatedly.

“Excellent, growing reviews surely,” Clarke teased, looking behind her shoulder at Bellamy.

Octavia laughed but didn’t correct her as she led her toward a small set of bleachers. Clarke was a little thrown off by the familiarity of it all, she wasn’t used to people who were so friendly upon first meeting her. She also hadn’t expected Bellamy’s sister to be so welcoming, she had assumed that he had informed her of their animosity. It almost felt too easy.

As much as Clarke wanted to suspicious of the whole thing; Octavia was warm, bright and beautiful. It was hard not to like her. It was also hard to tear her eyes away from the way Bellamy greeted each of the young boys with a handshake. The kids were enamored with him. They had all paused their playing and chatting to circle up around Bellamy, who had knelt down so they could speak to him directly.

“He’s a huge hit with the kids. Always kind of been a natural,” Octavia explained, watching as Clarke stared at the field. “My husband’s been coaching this team since the boys could walk and Bellamy’s been helping since the beginning,” she continued, pointing to an extremely large man with a tribal tattoo that Clarke assumed was her husband.

Octavia and Clarke chatted about their lives and the boys as the soccer game slowly began. It was about as organized as a game for seven-year-olds could be. Bellamy took his job as a coach very seriously, running up and down the sides of the field and giving careful directions to each of the kids. He was firm but gentle and was always the coach that the kids ran to when they got frustrated or upset.

Halfway through the game, a small boy with glasses had tripped and started to cry. Bellamy had swooped onto the field and propped the boy on his shoulders, carrying him around as he instructed the others. By the end of the game, the boy had been deemed mini-coach and refused to leave Bellamy’s side.

Clarke couldn’t quite pull her gaze away from Bellamy as she watched him interact with his team of kids. It was the most unguarded she had seen him. He looked happy and proud. Something about this version of Bellamy was attractive in a different way than Clarke had seen her husband in the past. It was the same side of him that had held her hand last night while her mom yelled at her. Maybe this was who Bellamy was under all his douchey theatrics.

“It’s cool that you and Bellamy are so close, even as adults. I don’t have any siblings so the concept of having nieces and nephews is unfathomable to me,” Clarke marveled, turning away from the field and facing Octavia.

Octavia gave Clarke a sly smile, taking the time to slowly peel an orange before she answered. “For what it’s worth, they’re kind of your nephews now too,” she shrugged, holding out a slice of orange.

Clarke took the orange slice and turned back to the field. The past few days had caused a pretty solid shift in her feelings about Bellamy and she was growing more attached to the idea of having someone in her life she could count on.

XXX

“Was O nice to you? She can come on a little strong at first,” Bellamy asked, flicking his eyes away from the road to meet hers.

“She’s way nicer than you honestly,” Clarke teased. “I was kind of expecting her to be meaner to me.”

“I’m wounded,” Bellamy laughed, jokingly throwing a hand to his chest as if he had been stabbed. “I don’t know what is more insulting, you calling me mean or thinking that I would _slander_ you to my sister?!”

Clarke gave him a light shove from across the console as they pulled into Octavia’s driveway. Her house was big but in a much cozier was than Clarke’s family home.

“Of course she lives in a house that looks like it belongs in a romantic comedy,” Clarke giggled as they made their way around to the backyard.

“Coming from the girl whose mom built a replica of Hogwarts.”

Before Clarke could respond, one of the boys came running over to them. But instead of jumping into Bellamy, he wrapped his arms around Clarke’s legs.

“What’s your name?” he asked, propping his chin against Clarke’s knee so he could look up at her with wide hazel eyes.

“This is Miss Clarke, she’s a friend of mine,” Bellamy explained carefully, kneeling down to boop his nephew on the nose. He didn’t want to confuse the boys but telling them that Clarke was their aunt, even if she technically was. There was a small pang of sadness as he realized that their marriage was winding down, just as they seemed able to stand one another.

“Wanna see my pets, Miss. Clarke?” he asked, reaching out his arms so that Clarke would help him stand up.

Clarke nodded, offering her hand so that Apollo could lead her inside. Not wanting to be left behind, Eros ran after them, reaching out to grab Clarke’s other hand.

Bellamy’s heart skipped a beat as he watched Clarke patiently walk with his nephews, pausing every few steps so that they could point out something to her.

“So she’s decidedly not evil,” Octavia said, coming up behind him with a tray of raw burger patties.

“From the way you’re looking at her, it doesn’t seem like you think she’s evil either,” Lincoln added, taking the plate from Octavia and lifting the heavy metal grill lid.

“I hate when you guys do the finishing each other’s sentences thing,” Bellamy deflected, “And I’m not looking at her.”

“Yeah and the sky is green,” Lincoln laughed, throwing a burger onto the grill with a soft hiss.

“You like your wife, it’s okay. That’s normal in most people’s marriages!” Octavia assured, handing Bellamy a bottle of artesian beer. “She’s patient enough to watch Apollo show her his pet rocks. That’s seriously saying something.”

“Bless his heart, he named them all and then arranged them in alphabetical order,” Lincoln smiled, looking back toward where Clarke was kneeling in the dirt and holding a growing handful of pebbles. “He tends to lose track of which one he’s on and then has to start over.”

Bellamy chuckled alongside them, resigning himself to the fact that he had to open up to his sister and Lincoln. They would just telepathically gang up on him until he filled them in any way. He sunk down onto one of the plush patio chairs, resting his beer bottle against his leg. The ocean rushed behind them as the salt air mixed with the scent of burgers and vegetables. Octavia looked up at him expectantly from where she stood, tending to stuffed mushrooms at the outdoor stove.

“Nothing’s happened. Nothing salacious anyway. We’re not as spiteful as we were a few weeks ago but that’s all. I think I would cautiously call us friends,” he finally said, holding his hands up defensively.

“You mean you haven’t put maple syrup in her pillow and she hasn’t filled a giant water balloon to hang over the bathroom door?” Lincoln teased.

“Parent trap, nice,” Octavia giggled, reaching across the wide counter to fist bump her husband.

Bellamy rolled his eyes at them both. He leaned back in his seat to watch Clarke and the boys while Lincoln and Octavia laughed at some dumb joke amongst themselves.

They had shifted away from Apollo’s pet rock collection and now sat in the area where the grass met the sand. Clarke was bent over the sand and was pointing small crabs as they popped out of their holes to scurry across the surface. The boys squealed in delight shuffling away as Clarke made pinchers with her hands and chased them away from the crabs.

Bellamy was shaken out of his observation of them when Octavia cleared her throat from behind, placing a large salad and a plate of sautéed vegetables on the table.

“I made some ravioli, why don’t you help me heat it up in the kitchen,” Octavia said softly, nudging him to stand up with her elbow.

Clarke laid back on the sand, panting with exertion from chasing the boys around the beach. She watched as Bellamy followed his sister back into the house. It was staggering how different his family was from hers. Both were broken in their own way, but this house had warmth. She couldn’t remember the last time she had just let herself have fun the way she had with the boys. It was comforting, but it was also tinged with bitterness. She only had about a month left of being married to Bellamy, even if they stayed friends—this wasn’t her family. It never would be. She knew it would hurt later if she got attached to these kids and the oddly enchanting Octavia but she couldn’t help herself.

Eros shifted, resting his head against Clarke’s stomach. She laced her fingers in his hair, listening to the hypnotic rush of the water against the sand. Not to be left out, Apollo laid down on her other side, lacing his hand in hers. It was so sweet, she could almost cry. As much as this wasn’t her family, she was starting to want it to be.

Lincoln set the plate of burgers on the table and walked over to where his sons sat with Clarke in the sand. He knelt beside them, crossing his legs and leaning back against the sand.

“They’re great kids,” Clarke said softly, shifting up onto her elbows slowly, careful not to jostle the boys. “Smart and gentle. They’re genuinely so fun to be around.”

“We’re proud of them,” Lincoln smiled, reaching out to smooth Eros’ hair from his forehead. “They like you. Eros especially can be kind of shy at first.”

Clarke looked down at the sleeping boy and smiled back at Lincoln. “I know we don’t know each other, so you have no reason to believe me. But trust me, I know better than anyone that Bellamy can come on a little strong. He’s a great guy though, one of the best I’ve ever known,” Lincoln said carefully, taking a long drink of his soda.

“A little strong is an understatement but I’m starting to see what you mean,” she said, unsure of how much to divulge to the relative stranger. Upon initial glance, Lincoln was large and imposing but there was something warm about his eyes, something made Clarke want to trust him. “He’s good at making you feel like he’s in your corner.”

“He tried to kill me the first time we met. Like I was genuinely fearful for my life. But I guess it’s understandable, I’m six years older than Octavia, he was concerned,” Lincoln reminisced, eyes softening at the memory. “Once he realized how much I loved O though…it all flipped. I don’t have any family, Bellamy’s the closest thing I’ve got to a brother.”

“You guys have something special here. My family is…difficult, to say the least.”

“Well, you’re family now too, if you want to be. Bellamy has never introduced a girl to my sons before, whether you realize it or not, he trusts you.”

The boys began to stir and Lincoln gave her a long look before scooping them up and carrying them over to the table. Clarke followed, dusting stray flecks of sand off of her thighs and shorts. Lincoln’s words echoed in her head, settling heavily in her chest as she took her seat next to Bellamy at the long outdoor table.

XXX

Maya eyed them both as she sat in her plush armchair, she twirled the end of her characteristic braid, playing with the thin ribbon knotted at the end. They had been in her office for almost an hour and Maya had said almost nothing in response to their stories.

“Tell me about your date last week,” she said finally, tapping the back of her pen against her notebook. “You went kayaking?”

Clarke froze at the memory of the sunscreen incident but Bellamy swooped in, filling in the details of their adventure. Maya smiled as he recounted the dolphins they saw and told her how they ate Jimmy Johns sandwiches in the car on the way home.

“Well, you two seem less hostile than you were the last time I saw you. In fact, I would cautiously call this friendly,” Maya said finally, clicking her pen once again.

“I think friendly sounds about right,” Clarke agreed, sneaking a sideways glance toward Bellamy who was nodding in agreement.

“This is the kind of progress I was talking about. It’s clear you’re both trying. This is the most genuine I’ve ever seen either of you.”

“We’re in a much better place now than we were when we first came in here. Both individually and together,” Bellamy explained, brushing his fingers against Clarke’s shoulder from where it lay against the back of the couch.

“I’m glad to hear that. I’d also love to hear about your upcoming week. Hopefully, you’re able to take some time to do something as a couple.”

“Bellamy will actually be joining me on a work trip. I have a client who works in the video game industry and we were given tickets to a convention,” Clarke answered. Bellamy had been surprisingly enthusiastic about the whole thing, apparently, he had played the earlier versions of the games Jasper had leaked and wanted to watch the drama unfold in person.

Maya’s face faltered from her usual, professional mask, “Hold on, are you going to InventiCON?!” she squeaked, bouncing slightly in her seat. “I’m a huge fan of Jasper Jordan, I’ve been watching his videos since he first started his channel. I hear he’s on a few of the panels.”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Clarke smiled, she wasn’t allowed to divulge that Jasper himself was her client but she had never met one of his fangirls in person. It was clear Maya was trying to keep her cool as she buzzed with excitement. Maybe Clarke would have Jasper sign something for her at some point, a goodbye present at the end of all this.

“Wow, I’m extremely jealous,” Maya marveled, collecting her notebook and standing up to usher them out of the room.

Clarke and Bellamy shared an amused look as they said goodbye to Maya and stepped out into the dim evening light.

“I think we found Maya’s kryptonite,” Bellamy chuckled, holding the door open for Clarke.

“For a Jasper Jordan fangirl…that was mild. You should see some of the stuff that I’ve had to sift through.”

“I’m kind of excited to meet this kid in the flesh.”

“He’s really nerdy, not at all the kind of person you would expect to have caused the amount of drama that he has.”

“You should just set him up with Maya. Maybe she’ll like us more if we found her a boyfriend.”

Clarke snorted, following Bellamy into a coffeeshop. It was crowded and she had to press her arm against his to be able to continue their conversation.

“More likely that Jasper would knock everything off a table in a restaurant and Maya would fail us out of spite,” she corrected.

They both laughed quietly among themselves in line for their coffee, trading jokes back and forth about what a date between Maya and Jasper would look like. By the time they had reached the counter, they were both bent over laughing. The barista seemed highly unamused by their display.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few little things to note. 
> 
> 1) After reading a lot of works in this fandom, I don't think the style of this story suited the E rating well. I've reverted it back to mature, mainly because while there will be a decent amount of sex...it is not the focus of the plot. Nothing has changed, I just want to be straightforward about what this story is.  
2) I plan to add 1-2 additional chapters (those of you know me are not surprised), I didn't give myself enough space for them to be cute before the plot progresses so I'm going to add in a few chapters of fluff and smut basically.  
3) I would love to know what you guys think of the Jasper subplot and how much fleshing out you guys are interested in seeing! Clarke's job in this is basically my job so I don't want to go off the rails too much and bore you. 
> 
> Anyway, thank y'all for reading! You are all so kind, constructive and genuine. I absolutely love hearing all of your thoughts. As a writer, it is the most rewarding this. I appreciate anyone who has taken the time to read this little project of mine. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, it included some of my favorite things to write including Clarke and Lincoln friendship :) Much love always


	8. Goggles and the emo stage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the posting issues. The website was glitching like crazy and it messed up my formatting. I ended up restructuring the whole thing.

* * *

So, uh…how am I supposed to dress for a video game conference?” Bellamy called from his side of the apartment, digging through his drawers.

“We’re supposed to be Jasper’s ‘posse’ so I don’t know,” Clarke shrugged, head burying into her own suitcase.

“That’s super helpful, thank you,” Bellamy groaned, folding a linen button-down and throwing it in his suitcase.

Clarke slid her cocktail dress into a garment bag and laid it over her luggage before moving to flop herself on Bellamy’s bed.

“What about this?” he asked, holding up an oversized graphic tee. Clarke wrinkled her nose and stood to take the shirt from him, shoving it back into a drawer. “What do kids these days even wear?”

“Jasper is a year older than me believe it or not,” Clarke laughed, sitting back down on the bed.

“You’re kidding. You made him sound nineteen,” Bellamy chuckled, throwing a blazer in his suitcase and kicking the lid closed. “Do people still say the word posse?”

“Dioyza does…so we all do.”

Clarke threw a few snacks in her carry on as Bellamy collected both of their suitcases and hauled them out to the car. She hadn't expected to look forward to this trip. Traveling for work usually made her feel stressed out and drained. But this convention was in Arizona and it was nice to have a travel buddy.

This Jasper case had given Clarke a new dose of excitement for her job. It was the first time in a long time that she was enjoying what she was doing. It was starting to make her second guess leaving the firm.

“You work in a spaceship,” Bellamy balked, pulling into a spot in front of the trendy chrome building.

Clarke grinned and shook her head. She ushered Bellamy through the broad sliding glass doors. They were the first to arrive and took their seats in the plush office chairs to wait for the others.

Harper bounced in a few minutes later, excitedly introducing Monty to Bellamy. The guys took to each other quickly, it the way that guys tended to. Before long they were chatting amongst themselves about hiking spots in Arizona.

While they waited for Jasper, Harper and Clarke prepared notes for the convention. It was an easy plan. For the most part, they were mainly trying to improve public perception. Their entire job was to socialize with attendees. The only real work would be during the creator cocktail party, they needed as many influential people on Jasper’s side as possible.

Five minutes before they were due to leave, Jasper burst into the office with a massive duffel bag and a pillow tucked under his arm. Before he could pant out an excuse for his tardiness, Bellamy strode across the room to stand behind Clarke.

“This is Jasper Jordan?!” Bellamy said, bending over as he began to laugh. Jasper blanched, staring at Bellamy with wide eyes.

Clarke felt the back of her neck burn, she had thought they had gotten past Bellamy being an asshole. The last thing she needed was him antagonizing her emotionally sensitive client. She elbowed him in the arm, but his laughs continued. The duration of his outburst had almost morphed into hysterical. Everyone in the room was staring between Jasper and Bellamy awkwardly.

“I, uh, well—” Jasper stammered, running a hand through his hair. His entire face had turned red and it was hard to tell whether he was angry or thrown off. Finally, after a few moments of silence, he muttered, “I changed my name.”

Bellamy finally seemed to calm down, leaning against Clarke’s arm to catch his breath after the outburst.

“I’m sorry man, I didn’t mean to laugh like that. I swear I wasn’t trying to freak you out. It’s just that I’ve been listening to Clarke rant about Jasper Jordan for the past five weeks. I never expected that Jasper Jordan was little Jordan Anderson from down the road,” Bellamy said, reaching out to clap Jasper on the shoulder warmly.

Jasper’s blush seemed to fade as his nervousness shifted into a smile, “I didn’t want anyone to be able to dig things up about me if my channel got big. Plus, I always liked the name Jasper. It’s never really come up. I can’t remember the last time I saw someone from back home.”

“Yeah if I’m not mistaken, Jasper was the name of your stuffed dinosaur?” Bellamy smirked.

“Holy shit,” Monty murmured, lunging into a story about the stuffed dinosaur Jasper had brought to college.

Clarke and Harper shared a confused look as Bellamy, Jasper, and Monty began chatting like old friends, sharing stories back and forth. From the looks of it, Bellamy and Jasper had grown up together. The weird tension from earlier quickly dissipated.

“Jor—I mean, Jasper had the world’s most intense childhood crush on my little sister. He was always around our house,” Bellamy explained, turning toward the others.

“Bellamy made me many a grilled cheese sandwich back in the day,” Jasper agreed, smiling at Bellamy fondly.

“Really? He’s never made me a grilled cheese sandwich,” Clarke teased, wrapping a hand around Bellamy’s bicep.

“Dang, what’re the odds that you two would be married?!” Jasper marveled, collecting his bag and pillow as they prepared to head to the airport.

Bellamy and Clarke shared a look but ignored the comment as they collected their things and loaded them into an Uber for the airport.

XXX

Their hotel check-in was decidedly smoother than the last time, despite the immense crowd of people flocked into the hotel lobby.

The crowd had parted like the red sea for Jasper, who paused to hug and greet all the people who called out to him. Clarke had to admit, the guy was good with his fans. He was patient and accommodating to every single person in the crowd, even the ones who were hurling insults at him. Most of the people who stopped him for pictures were teenage boys in video game shirts. Jasper took extra time with them, chatting for a few moments about his favorite games and complimenting their shirt choices. As a professional, Clarke was proud of him but as an exhausted person who just wanted a shower, the chit chat was driving her crazy. It took them almost half an hour to navigate the crowd and push into the elevator.

Their rooms were on the top floor of the hotel, clustered in the corner so that Clarke and Harper could keep an eye on Jasper. The entire floor was presumably reserved for high-level talent and management. There were a few subtly dressed security guards placed around the elevators.

Bellamy couldn’t help the smirk as he took the key card from Clarke and scanned it into their room. There was something poetic about being back in a hotel room together.

“Do you want to go stand inside and then open the door to yell at me?” he teased, leaning against the open door.

“Only if you want to go down to the lobby and race later,” Clarke laughed, pushing past him thing the room.

The room was a nice suite, with a large bathroom, a wet bar, and a small living room area. Most notably, there was a single King bed right in the middle.

“Sorry about that. It would’ve looked weird if I asked my assistant to book two beds,” Clarke said apologetically, rolling her suitcase into the closet area.

“It’s not a big deal, I’ll take the couch,” he shrugged, walking a circle around the room to survey everything.

“We can take turns, I’m used to couches at this point,” she said flippantly, dipping into the bathroom with a fresh set of clothes.

Bellamy swung open the heavy glass door, reveling in crisp heat of the Arizona desert on his skin. He and Clarke had come a long way, their fighting had shifted from resentful to almost playful. This conference had been stressing him out for the past week. He had been expecting Clarke to be on edge the entire time and for Jasper to have been a huge dick. But it turned out Clarke was in good spirits and Jasper…had been a surprise.

Hearing the hiss of the shower turn off, Bellamy flipped through his camera roll. Clarke had instructed him to post a picture of them both with Jasper on Instagram and to caption it, “So cool to reunite with a childhood friend.”

His Instagram was pretty sparse. He only had seven pictures and they were mainly of him and Murphy or him and his family. It seemed doubtful that anyone would care about something that he posted, but he set his profile on public and tagged Jasper. He also set his profile icon to the one of him and Clarke at the cycle studio. It seemed weird that he wouldn’t have a picture with his wife anywhere on his Instagram.

Just as Octavia commented something sappy on his post, Clarke stepped onto the balcony, sliding the door closed behind her. Her hair was wrapped up in a towel and Bellamy couldn’t help but notice that she smelled floral and sweet.

“Jasper shared your post on his story. Prepare for an influx of crazy followers,” Clarke warned, pulling her chair closer to Bellamy’s.

“I had to reset my password because it’s been so long since I used it. It’s kind of a waste of their time to follow me,” he shrugged, handing his phone to Clarke so she could see his sad profile.

“This is such a boy Instagram,” she teased, clicking on his old pictures and zooming in. “But thank you for doing this, I appreciate it. The whole friend group thing ended up being more organic than I expected.”

“I cannot believe that the kid who used to wear a pair of goggles on his hair every day to school is worth enough money to require talent management,” he marveled.

“Life’s weird like that,” Clarke agreed, propping her legs up onto the table to rub lotion into her skin.

Bellamy’s eyes followed the movement, heart stuttering when her hand pushed up the hem of her skirt to reach the tops of her thighs. The heat in the air felt suffocating as she rubbed the remaining lotion on her hands, eyes flitting up to meet his gaze.

“Here, I have extra,” Clarke said softly, reaching out to rub her hands against his, spreading the extra moisturizer across his palms.

The surface of his palms was rough against hers and she traced her fingers in the ridges, smiling when he shivered slightly. It was oddly vulnerable and it made him want to tell her things he hadn’t been planning to only moments before.

“Life is weird like that. Jasper and I grew up in an area that most people would call—rough. I don’t know, it’s like nice to see he did well for himself. He was annoying as hell when he was a kid, but I always liked him.”

“He’s a good guy under all the Youtube fronting. I kind of assumed he grew up like me based on how oblivious he is though.”

“I think that’s just Jor—Jasper,” Bellamy chuckled, wishing he had a picture from when they were kids to show Clarke, “I kind of get why he changed his name. I don’t think I would want people digging up stuff about our neighborhood either. We weren’t in a gang or anything, but people suck about things like that.”

“I can’t exactly say I understand what you mean but I can attest that there are a lot of judgmental people out there.”

They shared a long look, listening to the buzz of the golf course below them. It was a companionable silence, processing their exchange.

“It’s weird how it’s all connected,” Clarke said finally, tracing circles on her knee.

“Octavia called it serendipitous and I think she’s right. Maybe we should buy a lottery ticket together,” Bellamy teased.

“I think one multi-million dollar fortune is more than enough for us.”

“There’s no such thing as too many multimillion-dollar fortunes, Princess,” Bellamy said, pushing out of his chair and dipping back into the hotel room.

XXX

While they had been getting ready for Jasper’s panel, Bellamy’s phone pinged with a photo from Octavia. It was old and had been folded a few too many times but it was clearly of Bellamy, Octavia, Jasper and a blonde boy about Bellamy’s age. They were all sitting on a set of worn wooden steps wearing bathing suits. Octavia and Jasper both had gapped toothy smiles and Bellamy had the long, lanky awkward look of a kid in the throes of middle school. Sure enough, there were a pair of industrial goggles shoved into Jasper’s hair.

“This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Clarke grinned, texting herself the picture from Bellamy’s phone.

“She had to find the one from my awkward stage,” Bellamy groaned, taking back his phone and looking at the picture.

“You have emo bangs; I love it. I’m saving this forever!”

“Put it on your Instagram if you want…I’m sure people would love to see baby pictures of Jasper.”

“I’m posting it, but not because of Jasper. Because this is my favorite picture of you ever,” Clarke said, adjusting the picture for her story and captioning it, “Look at Bellamy.”

She also tagged Jasper, because it was her job but honestly that was more of an afterthought.

Sure enough. Because everything Jasper touched turns to gold. Clarke had 1,000 new followers by the time they were headed down to the conference area. The downstairs was once again packed, and they weaved through the crowd in an attempt to get seats. Since Clarke and Harper were trying not to come off like a management team, they didn’t get reserved seating and were relegated to being squeezed in the middle of the room. The room was filled with a diverse range of people, but teenage boys outnumbered everyone else 4:1. A few of the were even young enough that they were accompanied by their bored-looking parents.

The seating was close together, the chairs were crammed tightly to accommodate the crowd. Due to the chair arrangement, Clarke was pressed up against Bellamy’s side with his arm draped across the back of her chair.

From where she was sitting, she could smell the sharp sting of his cologne and feel the heat radiating off his body. There was a fraction of space between their legs and Clarke closed the distance, masking it under the guise of looking over her shoulder. As she turned, she caught a glimpse of a Jasper Fathead and snickered, elbowing Bellamy so he could see.

When he turned back around, Bellamy’s arm shifted from the back of the chair to rest against Clarke’s shoulders. Clarke adjusted herself, tucking her shoulder in the dip under his arm. The movement effectively tucked herself into his side. It was arguably a lot more comfortable than the way they had been sitting prior.

Bellamy was hyperaware of every spot where Clarke’s skin touched his. It was overwhelming but comfortable, it felt like the way they should’ve been sitting all along. He had been spending so much time lately, trying to avoid too much contact, it felt good to relax.

The panel was long, filled with information about video game releases and questions from young fans. Every once in awhile, Jasper would pause to chuck sponsored NordVPN t-shirts into the crowd, who all scrambled to catch them.

Comforted by the relative calmness of the situation, Clarke sunk into Bellamy’s side, adjusting her arm so that her hand rested on his leg. His thigh flexed under her hand and she smiled to herself, rubbing her thumb against the rough material of his jeans. His legs were thick and muscular, it took all her willpower to keep from digging her fingers into his skin. Every single part of this man was jacked, and it wasn’t making her life any easier.

Clarke was torn from her thoughts of Bellamy’s muscular legs when an audience member stood up. He asked Jasper about the altercation with the video game company. They hadn’t expected anyone from the public to be bold enough to bring it up during the panel. But Clarke had coached Jasper just in case. She shifted out of Bellamy’s grip, leaving her hand planted on his thigh and turned to Harper who was furiously tapping on her phone.

While Clarke and Harper were panicking, Jasper smiled at the questioner confidently. He delivered the exact response Clarke had crafted for him and seamlessly transitioned into a small speech they had worked on. It was about the importance of content creators to gaming companies. He even elaborated on how certain companies have proven that they do not respect the platform of their partners.

His delivery was eloquent and seemed to resonate with both the audience and his fellow panel members. As he wrapped up, they all began sharing stories about their own experiences. Clarke was shocked, for the first time since she had met him, Jasper had listened to what she had told him.

Harper turned to Clarke, beaming from ear to ear. Monty had been live-streaming the entire interaction and for the most part, Jasper was a hit.

“I’m proud of you,” Bellamy whispered, lips hovering a few centimeters from Clarke’s ear. “That was some insanely impressive coaching. Very convincing.”

A rush of something unfamiliar washed over Clarke. It had been a while since someone had told her they were proud of her. For some reason, it felt more significant coming from Bellamy. She blushed, smiling at him and squeezing the hand that was still placed on his thigh.

Aside from the blip, the panel quickly drew to a close. By the end, the focus had shifted almost entirely toward the creator’s rights in the corporate sphere. It was an impressive dialogue and hopefully, it was the final push toward reforming Jasper’s image. After the audience had been thanked for their attendance, Jasper stood. He moved from his seat to sit at the edge of the stage with his legs dangling off the edge.

“I know this panel kind of took a turn and it might not have been exactly what you all came in here to see,” Jasper began, smiling earnestly at the audience. “It can be easy to lose sight of why we all do this in corporate drama and monetization. This industry has transformed in the past few years and it hasn’t always been an easy change. Right before this convention, I ran into an old friend from my childhood, one of the first people who believed in me. It reminded me of why I started doing this in the first place. Video games are an outlet for a lot of people, myself included. It started as a way for me to impress a girl I liked. Then it became a way to avoid my shitty home life and eventually, it helped me cope with my anxiety. I never expected this hobby of mine to turn into a career and I have all of you to thank for that. Thank you for allowing me to share my passion with you. I know I haven’t always made the best choices but my heart has always been in this industry. I hope you’ll continue to give me the chance to be a creative voice in this field.”

There was a moment of silence after Jasper finished his monologue before the room erupted in applause. A lot of the younger boys, in particular, jumped out of their seats and rushed to the front. They were all talking at him, eager to share their stories with Jasper. The vulnerability of what he had said was staggering and Clarke sat in her seat, stunned at the display. All the time she had to spend teaching him how to connect with people and how to make a genuine apology. He had been listening the whole time.

Beside her, Bellamy covertly wiped his eyes and she reached out to take his hand.

“Remind me to hug that kid later,” Bellamy said, voice gravelly.

“I owe him a lot of hugs too. I can’t believe he was paying attention the whole time,” Clarke marveled, watching as Jasper hugged some of his fans and signed t-shirts for them.

Soon, the crowd from the panel dissolved after Jasper had been sufficiently hugged by everyone on the team. They had all been invited to participate in a CBD demonstration, but Clarke had to call Dioyza, so she and Bellamy strayed behind.

Bellamy drifted through the fan booths while Clarke took her call, ducking down to admire some impressive fan art. He wandered over to a booth selling sketches from old Zelda games and he smiled, picking up a piece from an older game he had loved.

“That’s beautiful,” Clarke said, coming up to stand beside him.

“Me and my friend Wick taught O and Jasper to how to play this game back in the day. We would all crowd around this old TV in Wick’s basement and pass the controllers back and forth. Octavia always cheated,” he chuckled, setting the picture back down.

“So that’s what Jasper meant when he said that you were one of the first people who believed in him.”

“Kind of, yeah. O and I had a great mom, we just never had money. Jasper’s dad on the other hand was…a man of the bottle if you will.” Bellamy explained, leading Clarke away from the booth. “He just needed a big brother and Wick and I were kind of there.”

“Are you and Wick still close?” Clarke asked, taking an energy drink sample from a passing tray.

“Kind of, he joined the army after high school, so he lives in Germany now,” Bellamy said, taking the drink sample out of Clarke’s hand and throwing it in the trash. “I think he and Jasper kept in touch. I lost track of Jasper after he and O drifted apart.”

Clarke pouted at her discarded drink but followed Bellamy further into the crowd. “I guess that makes sense, considering the whole crush thing. I mean I kind of get where Jasper’s coming from. Octavia is mesmerizing,” she continued, hooking her hand in the crook of Bellamy’s arm so she didn’t lose him the crowd.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” Bellamy deadpanned, finally coming to a stop in a less crowded area.

XXX

Overall, their day had been a massive success. Twitter was buzzing about Jasper’s speech and he had inspired other creators to share their stories of how they got into video games. Dioyza had already called Clarke to tell her that the stats on Jasper were better than ever.

But with all the excitement came a wave of exhaustion. After a long day of following Jasper around in heels, Clarke felt like she had been beaten on the head with a club.

“I ordered a shit-ton of room service. We’re going to be drowning in food,” Bellamy said, flopping down on the opposite end of the couch from Clarke. His hair was wet, and he was wearing one of the lush hotel bathrobes. From where she was sitting, Clarke could see a sliver of his tanned, toned chest and it made her wonder whether he was wearing anything underneath. “Go shower…you’ll feel better,” he urged, nudging Clarke’s feet with his thigh.

She groaned, throwing her head back dramatically on the arm of the couch, “Too tired, can’t move. Toes are bruised, body is bruised, I have the words NordVPN tattooed behind my eyes.”

She was too tired to fight off her instincts and she inched down, resting her feet in Bellamy’s lap.

Bellamy chuckled, running his finger experimentally across the bottom of Clarke’s foot. Clarke let out a pleased groan in response, scooting down the couch to give him better access. Taking that as an invitation, he pressed his fingers into the sole of her foot, rubbing firm circles to ease the tension.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she slid fully down the couch, allowing her legs to rest completely in Bellamy’s lap. He focused on her feet for a bit longer, letting his hands move further up her legs. He continued to rub circles up her calves, kneading her skin softly. There were knots of tension in the muscle and he pressed down, reveling in the slide of her soft skin against his fingers.

Every once in a while, he would ease apart a particularly tight knot and Clarke would moan softly. The sounds were going straight to his dick and he was suddenly grateful for the loose robe he had thrown on over his boxers. The thick material felt hot as his arousal grew, but he didn’t want to break the moment. Clarke’s eyes fluttered open as he neared her knee, flitting up to meet with his. The look they shared was heated and loaded. It suddenly felt like there was a lot less air in the room than there had been before.

A knock sounded against the door and Bellamy internally groaned.

He resigned himself as the moment slipped away and eased Clarke’s legs off his lap, adjusting the robe around his shoulders.

“I’ll take care of the food if you wanna jump in the shower real quick?”

Clarke nodded, pushing off the couch and making her way to the bathroom. Once the door was shut, she leaned against it, sliding down until she could feel the cold tile against her legs.

Her pulse was pounding against her throat and she took a deep breath, desperately trying to will away the ache between her thighs.

She turned the shower as cold as possible, hoping the cold spray would help shake her out of what had just happened. Unfortunately, all it did was make her skin burn and lead to her leaving spots of conditioner in her hair.

By the time she emerged from the bathroom, Bellamy had laid out all the food on the table and was trying to open a bottle of wine with a butter knife.

“You would think a hotel this fancy would have a wine opener,” he said sheepishly, pulling the cork out with a pop.

Clarke laughed but their interaction from earlier was still hanging in the air as she made herself a plate of food and settled back into the couch.

Bellamy clicked on the TV and joined her, pushing vegetables around on his plate. “So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” he asked, staring intently at a carrot.

“The day is free for us to just bop around, nothing too exciting but the evening is the VIP cocktail thing,” she replied, reaching out to grab a shrimp from the cocktail on the table. “It’s an open bar so that should be interesting.”

“Oh! Fun Clarke! Can we do karaoke?” he teased, waving his fork at her.

“Watch yourself or I’ll convince you to get a tattoo of a leaf,” she laughed, throwing a roll at him.

The awkwardness from earlier slowly faded away as they finished their dinner and found a movie to watch while they finished their wine. As per usual, they had bad taste in movies and the one they had chosen was decidedly terrible.

“I wasn’t expecting _Jenny’s Wedding_ to be about Katherine Hiegl being a lesbian,” Bellamy said, drinking the last sip of his wine.

“Nothing wrong with lesbians but they could’ve at least tried to make it interesting,” Clarke agreed, clinking her glass against his. Her legs had drifted back into his lap after their dinner had been cleared away, but it seemed like the moment was lost. His hand was just resting loosely on top of her ankles.

Bellamy clicked off the movie and stood, collecting his pajamas and moving to change into the bathroom. Clarke left the mess from their dinner on the table and went to untuck the sheets from the bed and throw the decorative pillows on the floor.

Just as she had gotten the bed to look sufficiently comfortable, Bellamy emerged from the bathroom in worn pajama pants.

He and Clarke shared a loaded moment of silence as his eyes flitted from the bed to the couch. Before he had the chance to grab a pillow and accept his fate, Clarke moved to stand in front of him.

“You know, we’re both adults…and this bed is pretty big,” Clarke said, emboldened by the interaction earlier.

“Are you sure?” Bellamy asked carefully, eyes scanning her face.

“I mean if you feel weird about it—” she began, cheeks flushing as she realized that Bellamy wasn’t interested.

“No, no, it’s fine,” he interrupted quickly, stopping her before she revoked the offer.

“Alright then,” she smiled, rounding the bed and turning her attention toward fluffing her pillows. Bellamy slid into the other side, stiffening as Clarke laid down. “Do you want a pillow barrier or something?” she asked, turning on her side to face him.

Bellamy snorted, “Like you said, we’re both adults.”

Clarke clicked off the light and they laid side by side in the bed, an awkward silence settling over the room. She was acutely aware of exactly how close Bellamy was to her. It may have been her imagination, but she could almost feel the heat of his body from where she was laying.

“Thanks for asking me to come to this. I had a lot of fun today,” Bellamy finally said into the dark, after a few painful moments of silence. He kind of half hoped that Clarke was asleep, “Seeing Jasper brought up a lot of memories.”

Clarke curled onto her side, staring at the outline of Bellamy beside her. “Good ones?” she asked, thinking back to the worn picture of emo Bellamy on the steps.

“A little bit of both I guess. Playing video games in Wick’s basement was one of the good ones for sure. But thinking about my childhood and my mom is hard sometimes,” he admitted, there was something easier about saying things like this when she couldn’t see him.

“Losing a parent when you’re young is a really weird thing. It’s like being part of a really shitty club.”

“She was killed by a drunk driver,” Bellamy blurted out. “She wasn’t perfect, but she tried her best and it always made me so angry that she died like that. I never really talked to anyone about it but—”

Clarke’s breath caught in her throat at Bellamy’s words, she could hear the crack in his voice at the end of his sentence and it broke her heart. Forgetting the awkwardness from before, she closed the small distance between them in the bed. He was lying on his back and she tucked herself against his side, wrapping an arm around his torso. There was nothing sexual about this, it was just comforting and warm. He wiped tears from the corner of his eyes and wrapped an arm around her, pressing his cheek against the crown of her head.

“I was really angry about my dad for a long time too. He was sick, so it’s not nearly the same thing but I know how shitty pent up rage can be.”

“What was your dad like?” he whispered, pressing his lips to her hair. He wasn’t sure how much more of the dark conversation he could take without crying.

“He was an architect, but he always wanted to get into contracting. He would have gone nuts over that stupid bar of yours. He was just…the best, he was the kind of person who loved everyone. Artistic, strong, kind, everything I could’ve asked for in a dad,” Clarke said quietly, wiping a stray tear with the back of her hand. “What about your mom?”

“She was fun, beautiful and had the voice of an angel. We had this old worn piano in our living room and on Fridays we would all sit around it while she sang old ballads. She was a badass too. Once she literally stormed down the street with a baseball bat and broke a liquor bottle on Jasper’s dad’s front lawn because he told him that he had to stop wearing those goggles,” Bellamy recounted, chuckling to himself as he told the story.

“Maybe they’re friends up there…” Clarke mused, “My dad would die over that baseball bat story.”

“Well that would explain all the serendipity,” Bellamy agreed, pulling Clarke closer against him. They had never touched each other platonically before, but something about it was familiar and comforting. Holding Clarke felt like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I said slow burn I mean sllllloooowww burn. But fear not, we have some serious Nick at Nite coming your way soon. Hope you enjoyed our little babies figuring out that they may just like each other. 
> 
> I just want to take the time to say thank you to all of you. This community is so kind, supportive and genuinely lovely. Y'all have such beautiful hearts and it really shows. I never thought I would be lucky enough to have readers who are so talented themselves. Truly a pleasure to get to know you through this story and in this little corner of the fandom. Even in the face of some negativity, y'all have shown so much kindness. 
> 
> Let me know what you think of this chapter (especially my lil Jasper twist)! Thank you to everyone who has read, kudos'd and left such kind comments. Much love friends <3


	9. A Party Trick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple in the header pic is Arie and Lauren B from the bachelor, obvi not my pic but they actually had a second wedding in Vegas so it felt fitting.

* * *

Light filtered through the blinds, spilling onto Bellamy’s face. The sun was just coming up, a meld of pink, yellow and orange haze. He groaned—he was so comfortable; this bed was luxuriously soft. The warmth of Clarke’s body seeped into his skin with her back pressed firmly against his chest. Sometime in the night, his hand had slipped beneath her thin shirt, the skin of her stomach soft and smooth against his palm. It was perfect, she was perfect. He held on to the moment for a beat longer, willing himself to fall back asleep.

Their hands were laced together, and he rubbed his thumb against her wrist, focusing on the movement as he tried to turn off his brain.

He was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when Clarke stirred.

“Mmmmmmm,” she mumbled softly as she shifted in the cradle of his arms. Her cheek was pillowed on his bicep and the movement splayed her hair like a curtain against his shirt.

Now, her ass was pressed directly against Bellamy’s dick, and any semblance of sleep slipped away. He was already hard and resisted the urge to grind forward. He was aching for contact, blood rushing to where her skin met his.

She moved again, more purposeful this time, pressing herself deliberately against his crotch. Bellamy was unraveling quickly, relishing in the soft friction through his boxers. Carefully, he slid his hand down Clarke’s stomach, brushing his thumb gently against the dip of her belly button before pausing right at the top of her shorts as he rolled his hips against hers.

Heat pulsed through Clarke’s body, running from her neck to her center. His hand on her stomach felt like fire and she longed for him to drift further, to push past her waistband and ease the throb of her clit. His breath tickled the side of her neck and her nipples pebbled through her shirt, a gentle moan escaping her lips. Bellamy’s hand tightened against her, fingers digging into her skin. It would be so easy for her to tip her head back and kiss him. His lips were right there.

The moment was so fragile, it felt like it could shatter at any second. Neither of them dared to speak, their heavy breathing mixing with the thick, warm air. The ground together gently, a slow give and take.

“Clarke—” he rasped, his arousal clouding in his voice. He needed to kiss her, this had been building for too long, it was too much. But before he had the chance, Clarke’s phone blared an alarm.

Bellamy groaned, out loud this time and a soft smile played on Clarke’s lips. She tipped her head back, resting her temple against his chin before she tilted her head up to press a gentle kiss to his jaw. Her lips lingered on his skin and for a moment, Bellamy thought his heart had stopped. Without another word, she eased out of his arms and climbed out of the bed.

Clarke shivered at the loss of Bellamy’s warmth. She already missed the feel of his arms around her and cursed Diyoza and her early flight for forcing her out of bed.

She had a meeting in less than an hour and all she could think about was crawling back under the covers to finish what they started.

XXX

“I’m pleased with the response from the panel. Excellent job Clarke, you somehow got that boy to listen,” Diyoza said, swiping through images on her tablet. “I think that it’s going to be quite easy to funnel in the campaign from here. I’m going to have Jasper tweet out his speech from earlier with the hashtags that Harper came up with. I’m very proud of you two, you’ve grown into two excellent professionals.”

Both women shared a look, blushing lightly at the compliment as Diyoza pushed away from the table. Clarke felt a rush of pride from the praise as well, she had spent so much time resenting her job that she never really considered that it could be enjoyable.

“Enjoy yourselves tonight, you deserve it. They’ve pulled out all the stops,” she told them both, sitting against the edge of the table. Both Clarke and Harper moved to leave but Diyoza reached out to hold Clarke’s elbow. “Hold on a moment Clarke,” she said, smiling at Harper as she exited the room.

Clarke was confused, Diyoza had already praised them far more than usual. It was highly out of the ordinary for her to be so nice to them.

“Sit down a moment, I want to talk to you. Don’t look so terrified!”

“Diyo—”

“Please call me Charmaine,” she instructed, gesturing for Clarke to take a seat beside her. “Something is different about you. You seem more…relaxed. It suits you.”

Clarke balked, this conversation had taken a very unexpected turn and she didn’t know how to react. Was she different? This Jasper case had felt far more natural to her than any of her previous work even though it had been more stressful. If anything, she had been doing more work than usual. But her nails weren’t chewed down and she hadn’t needed to incorporate extra spin classes before work to manage her stress.

“I’m happier than I’ve been in a while,” she finally admitted, turning slightly to face her boss. “And to be honest I’ve enjoyed this case. I think it suits my passions a lot better.”

“It shows. You’ve always produced excellent work, but it never seemed like your heart was in it. Lately, there’s just a fire under you!” Diyoza assured, placing a hand on Clarke’s wrist. “It seems as though being married suits you as well. There’s something wonderful about having a partner.”

“It’s been a wild ride,” Clarke agreed, mulling over Diyoza’s words. It had been incredibly nice to have someone to come home to. There were nights recently where she had spent her entire drive home thinking about what movie she and Bellamy were going to watch together or wondering what he had made for dinner. Somewhere along the way, they had kind of fallen into a rhythm.

“Well, I have an offer for you. I want you to think about it before you answer me. We have been discussing the possibility of you making partner for a while but this whole Jasper thing has given me an idea. I want to expand the firm and create a branch specifically for boutique entertainment management. You would manage your clients, have a small staff. It’s not quite partner but you would essentially only answer to yourself, I would be more so an advisor.”

The offer was incredibly generous, and it wasn’t close to what Clarke had been expecting. She was floored, and a little speechless.

“You don’t have to answer me right now, take a few days—a week even. If you’re not interested in taking it on, we can talk about partner. But this is an incredible opportunity and I hope you take it. You’re set for big things Griffin,” Diyoza gave her a soft pat on the shoulder before pushing off the table and leaving the conference room.

Without thinking, Clarke whipped out her phone and called Bellamy. It only rang for a second before he answered, voice tinged with mild concern.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she assured quickly, “I just had to tell you, Diyoza gave me kind of an amazing offer. She wants me to run a new talent management branch of the firm. I would essentially have full license over who I manage and how I manage them.”

“Clarke…that’s amazing. Although after yesterday, I’m not surprised. You’re fantastic at your job,” he said, and Clarke could hear the smile in his voice.

She beamed, thrilled by his assurances and stepped into the elevator, hoping she wouldn’t lose service. Sure enough, the call dropped and the elevator seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace. She pressed the button for their floor repeatedly, cursing the fact that their room was on the top floor.

She practically raced to their room when the doors opened eager to continue their conversation. Bellamy was waiting for her in their room, with a wide smile and a small bottle of champagne in his hand. His hair was still mussed from sleep and his shirt was wrinkled from where he had tugged it on. He looked endearingly disheveled.

“It’s from the minibar but I figured this was worth the extr—” he said sheepishly, holding up the tiny bottle.

She jumped, wrapping her arms around his neck. It felt so natural, like the only logical reaction to receiving good news. He paused for a breath, shocked by the sudden affection before returning the hug and lifting her slightly off the ground. He buried his face in her neck, squeezing her lightly. They stayed like that for a few moments, excitement and pride pulsing between them.

“I’m proud of you Princess. You deserve it,” he said, tucking her hair behind her ear after he set her back down.

“I’m just so surprised,” she marveled, sitting down heavily on the couch. “I expected partner maybe, but this is so much more.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be. You work your ass off.”

He unscrewed the small bottle, it lacked the cork due to its size and therefore lacked fanfare but it was fancy all the same. Clarke took the plastic cup he poured for her with a smile, tucking her legs beneath her.

“Can I tell you something?” she said asked, toying with the lip of her cup.

He took a seat beside her, angling his legs so their knees brushed lightly, “Yeah, go for it.”

“I was going to quit,” she admitted, downing the rest of her champagne. “Before all this. That’s what I was going to do with my half of the money. I never liked PR. I didn’t choose this job for myself and I’ve always kind of resented it. I don’t know exactly what changed or when it happened, but I’ve been enjoying myself lately. I loved working with a real person and being able to watch him become better. I want this job.”

“You’re allowed to change your mind,” he replied, skating over her comment about the money. “Maybe you didn’t choose PR, but you chose talent management and you’re good at it. The Jasper Jordan you were talking about two months ago is not the Jasper Jordan that gave that speech.”

“Am I petty if I don’t want to give my mother the satisfaction?”

“Your mom has influenced every decision of your life already. If you give up a job you want just to spite her then aren’t you still deciding because of her?”

“Shit, you have a point.”

“Obviously you can do what you want, but I think you’re too good at this to throw it away over proving your mom wrong,” he reassured, reaching out to squeeze her knee. “Do you want to get breakfast? You’ve been awake for like three hours and I know you well enough to know that you’re going to get hangry soon.”

“I snap at you one time and you never let me forget it,” she called indignantly as he retreated toward the closet, a small smile playing on her lips.

XXX

The second day of the convention was decidedly a lot less exciting than the first, the crowd had thinned substantially and most of the day was filled with hour-long video game tournaments.

“We’ve been here for twenty minutes and I’m already bored out of my mind,” Harper whined, scanning the room with disinterest. Monty had run off with Jasper to help judge a tournament of some kind, leaving the three of them to roam through the booths.

“All the fun people left,” Clarke agreed, noting the lack of colorful displays and cosplayers.

“Maybe there’s a speaker or something we can go see,” Bellamy tried, flipping through the convention brochure. “Are either of you interested in ‘Pragmatism of female costumes in video games’ or ‘Is Assassin’s Creed an accurate depiction of Italy’ by chance?”

Both Clarke and Harper gave him a wry look, leaning against a nearby table with defeat.

“You three look miserable,” Diyoza said, rounding the corner with a younger woman and a small girl in tow. “You’re young, you should be having more fun than this.”

“We’re a little underwhelmed by day two of the convention,” Bellamy explained, gesturing to the women beside him.

“You know you can leave the hotel, right?!” the little girl shrugged, moving to stand in front of Bellamy and planting her hands on her hips.

Bellamy smirked, he had to admire the spunk of this girl. He knelt down so he could speak to her directly, “We actually did not think of that. That’s a very smart idea.”

“I am very smart,” the girl said matter-of-factly. “We’re going to a farm if you want to come.”

Bellamy looked from the girl to Clarke’s boss who was smiling at them with amusement. “This is my daughter Hope and my wife Niylah. Yes, we’re going to a rehabilitation farm—”

“They let you feed baby cows the bottle,” Hope interrupted, tugging on Bellamy’s sleeve to get his attention.

Diyoza nodded, “As she said, you are more than welcome to join us.”

Clarke looked from the sad room to Bellamy and then to Hope, as much as she didn’t feel like spending the day with her boss…it was their best option. At least, the newly known Charmaine seemed to be in a good mood.

They exchanged greetings as they loaded onto the hotel shuttle, Hope seemed to have taken a liking to Bellamy and subsequently Clarke.

“Did you get that hair from God?” Hope asked from her seat between Bellamy and Clarke.

Bellamy snorted and Clarke giggled, “Yes! It’s my real hair.”

“It’s really pretty, like Rapunzel’s hair. I bet we can find some flowers at the farm to put in it,” she said simply, swinging her tiny feet against the leather seat. “And if she’s Rapunzel then that means you’re Flynn Ryder…and your real name is _Eugene_!” she cackled delightedly.

“Bellamy is almost as silly of a name as Eugene, right?” Clarke asked, trying to suppress her laugh.

The drive passed quickly with Hope complimenting Clarke and making fun of Bellamy until they pulled into a long gravel driveway framed by a red barn. Hope screeched at the sight of the cows and flew out of the bus door the moment it opened with Diyoza running quickly behind.

“She’s very spirited,” Niylah explained as they exited much more slowly.

“And adorable,” Clarke assured, following the gravel drive to where Hope and Diyoza were watching the cows.

The farm was mainly a cutesy kid gimmick with some genuine information about animal rehabilitation but it was a much better way to spend their day than the convention.

“Rapunzel, come look!” Hope called, cradling a soft white bunny in her hands and waving wildly at Clarke.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who thinks you’re a princess,” Bellamy teased, nudging Clarke toward the bunny pen.

He watched as Clarke knelt down and gently took the bunny from Hope’s hands. His heart melted a little at the sight, the girl was looking at Clarke like she was about to break into a song at any moment.

“You guys are very cute together,” Harper said, coming up behind Bellamy to lean against the fence. “It’s a nice change.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he shrugged, eyes still focused on Clarke.

Harper gave him a smug look and went back to where she was standing with Niylah. Bellamy dipped under the fence and knelt by the bunny pen. Clarke was still holding the white bunny and Hope had picked up a much larger brown bunny. It was huge, almost the size of her entire torso and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the attention.

“Mister Bellamy do you want to hold him,” Hope asked wide-eyed, pushing the rabbit to him.

“No, no, that’s okay,” he answered quickly holding both his hands up.

“You don’t have to be scared,” Hope smiled, hauling the rabbit up with a great amount of difficulty and moving to sit in Bellamy’s lap. “See? He’s nice,” she continued, picking up his hand and placing it on its back.

XXX

“I’m exhausted, the thought of putting on a suit makes me want to die,” Bellamy whined, lying dramatically on the bed wrapped in the hotel robe. “And I think I still smell like a rabbit.”

“Do you want a RedBull? We already broke the minibar seal.”

Bellamy groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes and Clarke rolled the can toward him. “I’m going to shower; you better be vertical when I get back.”

“No promises,” he called at her retreating form.

He cracked open the can and chugged the contents, waiting for the caffeine to kick in while he listened to the spray of the shower. It wasn’t until the spray turned off that he could bring himself to leave the comfort of the bed and remove his suit from the garment bag.

He was straightening his bow tie in the mirror when the bathroom door creaked open. The room filled with a wave of flowery steam and Clarke stepped out in a billowy black cocktail dress. Even through the mirror, Bellamy felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of her.

“You clean up nicely Blake,” she whispered, stepping behind him in the mirror. He turned carefully, back pressed against the glass to face her. She reached up to tuck a long strand of hair behind his ear, smoothing the curl against his neck.

**“**You look beautiful,” he murmured, running a hand up and down her arm to cup her elbow.

Clarke skimmed the side of his jaw and adjusted his lapel before smiling and stepping back. She needed to put some space between them, they had to make it to this party, and she was only had so much willpower.

Bellamy leaned against the mirror, watching as Clarke fastened her heels around her ankles. Her dress had a long slit and he followed the line of smooth skin until the top of her leg disappeared beneath. He had to admit, his wife was stunning, and that dress was only helping.

The ballroom was only a few floors down from their room and the piano music drifted elegantly into the elevator as they made their trip down. Bellamy offered his elbow to Clarke and guided her into the grand entrance.

Diyoza had been right, the convention had gone all out for this event. There were massive towers of champagne glasses, tuxedo-clad waiters holding trays of expensive seafood and a full jazz band playing in the corner.

“What exactly is the theme of this?” Monty asked, plucking a shrimp off a passing tray as they approached Bellamy and Clarke.

“Expensive,” Jasper said dryly, finishing the rest of his champagne. “And this isn’t even the whole thing. There’s a secret super VIP section for people with more than 20 million subscribers.”

“A VIP section for the VIP party checks out,” Clarke nodded, scanning the room. This was impressive, it was the kind of thing that even Abby Griffin would call opulent.

The party itself wasn’t very exciting, it was mainly rubbing elbows with pseudo famous people and chasing waiters to get a few bites of food. It proved to be useful for Clarke, there was a lot of unmanaged talent in the room. Her purse was full of business cards, but the endless small talk was losing its charm quickly.

“Why is it that I always find you all standing around looking bored?” Diyoza chided, marching toward them in a tight red gown.

“We’re having an amazing time, this is one hell of a party,” Bellamy grinned, flashing Diyoza a broad smile.

“Well then liven up. They’re about to pour the champagne tower.”

“Champagne tower?” Bellamy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“They pop a bottle of champagne and then pour it over that giant stack of glasses,” Clarke explained, leaning against the bar.

“Ya know…Clarke has an excellent party trick involving a bottle of champagne,” Bellamy smirked, nudging her with his elbow.

“Is that so?” Diyoza chuckled, leaning over the bar to get the attention of the bartender. “Well, I think this is the perfect avenue to show it off.”

“I—uhh—don’t think-“ she stammered, placing a hand on her bosses arm to halt this.

But once Diyoza got something in her head, there was no stopping her. She whispered with the bartender for a moment before grabbing Bellamy and dragging him off toward the crowd. The rest of the group balked, watching silently as they disappeared in the sea of suits and gowns.

“She can be a little one-tracked sometimes,” Niylah explained sheepishly.

“I need a shot,” Clarke moaned, leaning her head against the bar. She had learned that stupid trick in high school and while it never failed, it was a little unnecessarily dramatic. Plus, it meant that everyone in the room would be staring at her.

Never one to turn down a drink, Jasper ordered two rounds of tequila shots. By the time Bellamy and Diyoza returned, a warm blanket of buzz had fallen over Clarke. She wasn’t drunk but she could feel a comfortable tingle in her fingers and toes.

“We saved you shots Bell,” Japer said, nudging glasses toward him. “You get an extra half because Clarke is a wimp.”

Clarke gasped indignantly but Diyoza cornered her off before she had the chance to defend herself.

“The pop is purely for fanfare, it’s a cheap bottle. I convinced them to let you do it!”

Which is how Clarke ended up standing on a platform in front of over three hundred people with a bottle of Chloe champagne in one hand and an enormous knife in the other. The music had switched from elegant jazz music to something more pop styled and she closed her eyes, focusing on the beat.

Channeling her Vegas alter-ego, Clarke leaned forward into the mic and yelled, “Who’s ready to get this party started?!”

The crowd roared in response and with a flourish, she skimmed the knife against the bottle. The cork popped off in a fluid motion and flew across the room, spraying champagne in its wake. Cheers and whoops continued as the waiters began pouring expensive bottles into the tower, allowing it to waterfall off the edge of each glass.

Bellamy stepped to the edge of the stage and Clarke hopped down into his arms, squealing as he spun her in a circle.

“I love this side of you Griffin,” Diyoza said, clapping Clarke on the back with a broad grin. Clarke flushed, thanking her boss and helping herself to a glass of champagne from the tower.

“I’m learning to let my hair down a little,” she grinned, keeping her arm wrapped tightly around Bellamy’s bicep. Diyoza shot them a cheeky grin over her shoulder before disappearing into the crowd, leaving them alone.

“You’re really something princess, you know that?” he whispered, hands tightening around her waist. The fanfare around them died down as people began to collect their drinks and move to the dance floor.

“Same could be said for you Mr. Blake,” she teased, running a single finger down the length of his chest and slid a hand under his jacket to rest against his back.

Bellamy’s breath caught at the heat of Clarke’s hand against his back, her thumb was stroking slow careful circles against the thin material of his shirt. The music around them had slowed as the band switched into a modern rendition of ‘Moon River’.

“Well Mrs. Blake, may I have this dance?” he asked, voice raspy as he carefully took her free hand.

Clarke nodded, the tension between them was weighted and thick, she could almost feel it in the air. That single exchange was laced with every missed opportunity from the past few weeks. He was looking at her with an expression that could almost be described as—tender but it was laced with an unmistakable heat. Mixed with the faint buzz of the champagne, Clarke felt a little dizzy.

There was something different about the moment, it didn’t feel fragile. They had nowhere to be, no one to talk to, no phones to answer—it was truly just the two of them. Mr. and Mrs. Blake.

Bellamy’s hands slid to Clarke’s waist, thumbs resting just below her breasts. In turn, she smoothed her hands up his chest and placed them on the sides of his neck. She could feel his pulse thudding under her fingers. There was barely a hair of distance between their bodies, moving to the sway of the music.

Clarke’s brain was moving a mile a minute, but her thoughts were clouded by the thud of her pulse in her ears. It was kind of terrifying, this had always been a game—teasing each other, _almost_ kissing. But this was real, and it didn’t feel like a game anymore. There was more to this than just the heat of it. If they crossed this line, there was no going back.

“I can hear you thinking,” Bellamy said, reaching out to smooth the crease between Clarke’s brows.

“I have a hard time being in the moment sometimes. But I’m really happy,” she admitted, reaching out to cup his jaw in her palm.

He took a small step toward her. Closing the small distance between them, fingers digging pleasantly into her waist.

“Clarke—” he said quietly, voice just above a whisper. They were only inches apart, Clarke could see each individual freckle splattered across his cheeks.

Their first kiss wasn’t what Clarke had imagined, it wasn’t a crash of passion or desperate and drunk. The press of his lips against hers was _sweet_ and soft—almost painfully so. It was a careful slide of skin against skin. It wasn’t the kind of passion that she was expecting but it was loaded and so gentle that she could feel the emotion of it bubbling in her chest. A small moan slipped from Clarke’s lips as Bellamy laced his hands in her hair, pulling her closer. He didn’t try to move it further, just held her closely, pressing light kisses to her lips.

The song slowly drifted to its end, and with it, they slow drew apart, nudging their noses together as they caught their breath.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Bellamy began, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.

Clarke nodded, lacing her hand with Bellamy’s and leading him off the dance floor. Bellamy swiped a bottle of champagne off the bar as they weaved through the crowd.

XXX

Clarke stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. She was desperately trying to hype herself up, but it didn’t seem to be working. She had a man out there waiting for her—not just any man, Bellamy. Her husband. Who she may or may not have feelings for?

Turning off the tap, she squared her shoulders and stepped out of the bathroom. If she stayed in there any longer, she would psych herself out.

The lights were dimmed, and Bellamy was leaning back against the bed. His tie was loosened, and his hair was mussed from where Clarke had run her fingers through it earlier. He looked…adorable and it made all her trepidation from earlier fade into the background.

At the sight of her, he whipped up, scooting to the end of the bed.

“Hey—” he murmured, breath hitching as she moved to stand between his legs.

“Hey…” she replied. His expression was so earnest, she felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest. Slowly, she ran her hands through his hair, scraping her nails lightly against his scalp.

“Wait,” he groaned, pulling back slightly. “You aren’t expecting a phone call or a visitor, right?”

Clarke giggled, moving her hands to his neck once again, “No. I’m all yours—”

The weight of her words sat heavily in the air for a moment before Bellamy groaned, “Thank fuck” and surged forward to kiss her.

This kiss wasn’t like the first. It was heated and electric. Their were hands everywhere, desperately trying to make up for the lost time. His tongue swiped heavily against the seam of her lips and he slanted his mouth to gain access, desperate to be closer to her. He was kissing her like she was the only person on earth and she sunk into it, running her hands across the hard planes of his back.

Clarke thought she might pass out as Bellamy leaned back onto the bed, pulling her fully on top of his body. He was kissing her neck in a way that sent shocks down her spine and it was delicious.

She could feel every line of his body against hers, the slit in her dress had hiked all the way up her leg as she hooked it around Bellamy’s hip. His fingers dug into her thigh, urging the hem of her dress up.

“Do you want to fuck me with the dress on?” Clarke asked breathily, pulling back so she could see his face.

Bellamy’s soul momentarily left his body, this woman was going to be the death of him. He considered the dress, eyes scanning her body keenly, but it wasn’t right, he wanted all of her. It had been too long, he wanted this too badly, the first time needed to be perfect.

Wordlessly, he reached behind her and carefully dragged the zipper down her back, groaning when the straps of the dress slid off on their own.

“Perfect, absolutely, perfect.’

He leaned forward, pressing soft kisses to the top of each breast and sliding the bodice of her dress of fully.

“Tell me you’re mine again,” he said roughly, “please.”

Clarke arched her back, aching for him to touch her _somewhere_¸ he was so close and yet so far. Her voice sounded so wrecked, she barely recognized it, “Yours, your wife, whatever you want. Bellamy—”

At the sound of his name, Bellamy surged forward scraping his teeth against the underside of her breast, nipping lightly at the skin. He kissed his way up, sucking a nipple into his mouth and reached out to palm the other one in her hand.

“Fuck baby, do you know—I would…I would die for these,” he groaned, kneading her breasts together and pressing his face into the space where they met. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Bellamy can’t remember the last time he felt like this. So desperate and eager, it felt like he was experiencing it all for the first time. He so wanted it to last but she felt so good, it was just so right. It was overwhelming, he wanted his hands everywhere all at once.

Clarke bucked her hips against his, moaning when she finally got the friction she had been aching for. She was pushing at the collar of his shirt, fumbling with the buttons at his collar trying to expose more skin. He was entirely too clothed for her liking, it didn’t seem fair.

“Bell, c’mon,” she whined, frowning at his tie.

He chuckled at her frown, flipping them over so he could lean back and make quick work of removing his shirt.

“Hey…pants too!” Clarke said indignantly, nudging him off of her so that she could shimmy out of her dress.

His slacks were barely off his ankles when Clarke slid back on top of him, grinding experimentally against his dick.

“I need to see you.” He flipped them back over and sat back on his knees so that he could see her fully. Her hair spread around her head and he could tell she was fighting to cover herself with her hands. He pressed a gentle kiss to her jaw, right where her neck began and then to her collarbone, “Absolutely perfect.”

He paused to run his teeth over her skin, sucking just enough to leave a faint bruise. Satisfied with his work, he pressed kiss to her breast before moving down to her stomach. His lips trailed down from there, leaving small nips and kisses all the way down. He trailed her underwear down her legs and was hovering just above her clit when she put her hands on his shoulders to stop him.

“Wait—”

“What? If this is too fast for you? We can stop—” he rambled out quickly, immediately pulling away from her.

“No! No, I want this. I want you. But I want to come with you inside me,” she assured, pulling him back down so she could kiss him.

This kiss was somewhere in the middle of the first and second, not too soft but not rough. It was laced with an undercurrent of something deeper. Something Clarke didn’t want to identify right now.

She leaned back against the pillows as Bellamy shed his boxers. The muscles of his abs rippled with his movement and the heat between her legs burned. He was staggeringly large and so incredibly handsome. It was almost unbelievable.

“So strong,” she moaned as he settled above her. “And all mine. I can’t believe it.”

He gave her a soft smile, pushing her hair away from her forehead, “Condom?” he asked carefully.

“IUD,” she supplied, lacing her hands in his hair to kiss him again. It was filthy and perfect, loaded with the heat of their pent up frustration.

They both moaned in relief as he sank into her, relishing in the heat and stretch of the movement.

“Worth the wait,” Clarke panted, threading her fingers into Bellamy’s hair and pulling him down for a soft kiss as he began to move against her.

It was slow, almost like they were trying to memorize the feel of one another. Clarke ran her hands down Bellamy’s back, moving from his shoulders to his arms.

He pressed careful kisses to her jaw and neck, pausing every once in a while to just breath her in.

The air was filled with the sounds of soft moans and quiet whispers. Clarke’s orgasm crept up on her, a rolling wave of heat from her neck to her toes. It was heavy and slow, leaving her unable to do anything other than murmur Bellamy’s name over and over.

“I—I—Bell—oh…” she moaned, falling over the edge of her orgasm. She dug her nails into Bellamy’s back as she came, overwhelmed by the intensity of her emotions. It was almost too much, as she felt him fill her—a flood of warmth that seeped through her skin, whispering her name as he followed.

They were both panting heavily and Clarke pushed Bellamy’s damp bangs back as they came down. She had never in a million years thought they would end up here but there was no place she would rather be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHH!! They got there guys, can you believe it? Aren't they just adorable. 
> 
> Thank you as always for your absolutely wonderful feedback and kind words, I am continually so grateful for you all! Y'all just blow me away. I hope you enjoy this chapter of random cuteness. It is sadly busy season but I will be trying to get another chapter up before Christmas, especially bc we will be getting fluff and I just love to write that haha. 
> 
> As always I just love hearing what you think and getting to know y'all! Much love :)


	10. Trapped in a Target Cart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is smut in this chapter. If you want to skip it, it ends at the first series of "XXX". Just want everyone to feel comfortable in this space :)

“Wait, wait, wait,” Bellamy said, pulling Clarke’s hand back as she tried to push her luggage through the doorway. “This is official now, we’ve gotta do this right.”

“What—” Clarke began, clearly confused as to why Bellamy was trying to have a serious conversation in the middle of the hallway.

“I mean, I’ve gotta carry you over the doorway,” he shrugged, dumping his duffel bag unceremoniously on the floor.

Clarke sighed but took a step forward to position herself to be picked up. Bellamy grinned widely and scooped her into his arms, kissing her temple lightly and dramatically stepping through the threshold.

It was definitely a stark contrast from the first time they had actually entered this apartment as a married couple.

He spun her around in a quick circle once they were inside before he set her carefully back on the floor. Clarke kept her arms wrapped around his neck, threading her fingers through his curls. His hair was getting long, spanning past his ears but Clarke loved the new length and the way the dark strands fit in her hands.

“Please don’t ever cut your hair,” she murmured, pressing a gentle kiss against his cheekbone.

“I have a haircut tomorrow, but I’ll save the trimmings for you,” he teased, nuzzling into her neck. His hands fit perfectly against the small of her back and he wanted to stay like this forever. Clarke continued to toy with his hair, scraping her nails gently against the base of his neck.

“I’ll keep it inside my pillow, right next to your dirty socks,” she teased, untangling herself from Bellamy’s arms to push the front door closed.

“Why don’t you let me apologize for that,” he murmured, crowding her until she was pressed up against the back of the door.

He bent down to mouth at her neck, nipping lightly at her skin when she moaned softly. She sank into the door, lacing her hands in his hair as he continued to kiss down her neck and on her collarbone.

His lips brushed against the top of her breasts and she groaned, hooking her leg up against his hip to pull him closer. Heat tingled from the side of her neck down to her clit and she bucked against the thigh of his jeans. Her whole body was on fire, her skin tingling at the feel of him against her hip.

“Mhmm, I like this side of you,” he whispered, pulling the skin of her ear between his teeth, grazing his teeth against her skin.

Clarke tugged lightly against his scalp, pulling him back just far enough that she could reach him for a kiss.

He tugged her closer, reaching out to cup her ass, sliding under the soft satin of her skirt. His fingers flexed against her skin, palming each of her cheeks. Clarke bucked up, tightening her grip against his neck. Her tongue brushed lightly against his and he groaned, pulling her other leg up to wrap both around his waist.

Clarke yelped, she was completely suspended in the air and Bellamy was holding her up as if she weighed nothing. Experimentally, she slid her hands from his neck to his biceps. His arms were firm, and the muscle flexed beneath her hands.

“You are so hot, it’s unbelievable,” she murmured against his lips. “So big and so strong…”

Bellamy gripped her ass more tightly, pressing his dick up against the seam of her underwear. One of his hands slipped under the waistband of her thong, toying with the fabric.

It was barely a string, it would be so easy for him to drag them down.

“Can I—right here? Fuck,” he gritted out, dragging the lace strip a little further down.

Another moan slipped from Clarke’s mouth and she ground down against him again. Her whole body was on fire, his fingers were so close. He was almost exactly where she wanted him to be. Her panties were drenched, she was sure that there was a wet spot on Bellamy’s jeans where she was pressed up against him but she was too far gone to care.

“Yes, yes, please, need you,” she panted, fumbling with the buttons of his flannel.

Her whole body flooded with relief as Bellamy finally pushed her underwear aside and began rubbing firm circles of her clit. She moaned his name as his pace quickened, finally reaching the bottom button of his shirt.

His movements continued as he slid one thick finger into her, pumping in and out slowly while his other arm kept her suspended against the door.

“Bell…oh my God,” she said, tipping her head back. He had barely done anything and she was already on the verge of tipping over the edge. Her hips bucked wildly and he slid a second finger in, crooking it slightly when she moaned again.

“Fuck, baby. C’mon, you’re so close. I can feel it,” he encouraged, catching her lips in a messy kiss.

Heat pulsed through her, rushing down from her neck and sending shivers down her spine. She moaned his name again as she came, gripping tightly onto his biceps.

He kissed her softly as she slumped against him, arms wrapping lazily around his shoulders. Carefully, he set her carefully on the floor, pressing a final kiss onto her nose just as her underwear finally fell to the floor.

Clarke pushed up on her toes, recapturing his lips in another kiss. It started soft, careful still tinged with post-orgasm bliss but it slow spiked with heat. Clarke ran her tongue against the seam of his lips, pressing into his mouth. The kiss was messy, wet and hot.

Bellamy moaned softly, gripping at Clarke’s waist. She slid his shirt slowly off his shoulders before pushing gently on his chest, leading him further into the apartment. Still kissing, she led him back toward the couch.

Gently, she urged him to sit back and followed him, letting her skirt fall to the floor as she framed his hips with her knees. She straddled him, once again tangling her fingers in his hair.

“Clarke,” he murmured, pulling away to look at her. His pupils were blown and his eyes were hooded, laced with desire.

“Put this on for you earlier,” she said slyly, pulling off her tank to reveal a red lace bra.

Bellamy moaned her name again, pulling her toward him so that their bodies were pressed tightly together. Clarke could feel every ridge of his body against hers as he started kissing down her neck, making a path toward the top of her breasts. He nipped his teeth against the smooth skin, sucking a dark mark on her.

Clarke could feel his dick pressed up against her bare center and ground down, wincing at the rough scratch of denim.

Bellamy surged back up to kiss her, while Clarke made quick work of peeling off his jeans and boxers. She moved to rub up against him again, moaning at the feel of skin against skin.

“Ride me, baby,” Bellamy said, almost reverently, running his hands down her thighs to cup her ass as she sank down onto him.

She bounced experimentally, it was a different angle from before and the movement hit a spot that caused her eyes to roll back into her head.

Bellamy thought he might die as he watched Clarke move above him. He dug her fingers into his ass, urging her to move more quickly on top of him.

He wanted his hands everywhere, sliding his grip from her ass to her waist. She was still wearing the red bra and he sucked another hickey into her skin. The sight of his mark against her skin caused another flush of pleasure to drip to the bottom of his stomach.

“Smack my ass babe, I’m close,” Clarke panted desperately, thrusting her hips wildly against his.

He moaned out her name as he smacked his palm against her. The sting of the friction was enough to nudge her into another orgasm. This one was slower than the last, a deep flush of heat that surged from her muscles and settled gently onto her skin, pulsing pleasantly through her entire body. The surge was pushed further by the feel of Bellamy pulsing inside her, burying his face into her neck as he felt the heat of his orgasm.

“You’ re—unbelievable,” he whispered, pressing light kisses into the skin of her neck. “That was,”

“The best sex of my life,” Clarke finished for him with a cheeky smile, nudging his chin so that she could press a gentle kiss to his lips.

XXX

“Someone looked awfully cozy with their husband this weekend,” Harper giggled suggestively, setting a water bottle across from Clarke as she took a seat across from her.

“We had fun,” Clarke smirked, eyes still glued to her computer screen.

“Yeah kissing on the dance floor sure is fun, huh?”

Clarke blushed a deep red and finally swiveled her chair to face her friend. “I didn’t think anyone saw that.”

“I was only looking because Monty and I had a bet with Miller that you two would get together before the end of the conference,” Harper admitted, cracking open her bottle and wincing as it fizzed onto Clarke’s desk. “Now spill.”

“Ugh fine,” she resigned, there was no way she could get out of this now that Harper had seen them. “We are softly together. It’s still new but it’s good. Like _really_ good if you get what I’m saying.”

Harper squealed, wiggling a little in her seat at the news. “I am _so _happy for you guys. You are good together, I’m glad you finally figured it out. Plus with fighting like that, I’m not surprised the other stuff was good.”

“He’s…different than I expected.”

“After the whole thing with his sister and her kids it was only a matter of time,” Harper shrugged, “It was pretty clear that you guys were—”

There was a faint knock on the door and Bellamy’s head peeked through the doorframe. “Sorry, I was going to wait outside but Diyoza saw me in the lobby and insisted I just come in,” he said sheepishly, stepping fully into her office.

“This is perfect timing! I was just about to ask Clarke whether you guys are coming to Murphy’s birthday?” Harper asked, head swiveling between them.

“Yeah, I just got the text about it I figured we would go,” Clarke said, looking toward Bellamy who nodded in agreement.

“Emori goes all out, it’s always a Halloween party,” Bellamy explained, taking a seat in one of the stiff acrylic chairs. “I didn’t know you and Raven had gotten so close with them.”

“Uhh—yeah, you know…we just like get drinks or brunch sometimes. No big deal,” Harper shrugged, squirming a little in her seat. “It’s nice that Miles and Emori know each other from work.”

“Hold on! Why were we never invited?” Clarke exclaimed, eyebrows shooting to her hairline.

“Because you guys were always trying to kill each other! We didn’t want to take sides!” Harper said carefully, taking another long sip of her drink. “But you can come now! It’ll be like a big friend group thing!”

Bellamy and Clarke shared a look, shaking their heads as Harper shifted awkwardly. It was clear she hadn’t intended to divulge that particular piece of information.

“I was asking about Murphy’s birthday because we were thinking about inviting Jasper, but I wasn’t sure if that would be inappropriate.”

“I mean his crisis is over and we’re just generally managing him now so it’s not an issue,” Clarke shrugged.

“Octavia would freak, she’ll be super excited to see him,” Bellamy agreed, pulling out his phone to text his sister.

Harper nodded enthusiastically, pushing out of her chair to leave the room. “Cool, I’ll let Jasper know then! I’ll leave you guys to whatever you were going to do,” she said with a big wink.

“Ew, gross weirdo we’re going to lunch!” Clarke laughed as Harper left the office.

“Speaking of, I’m starving,” Bellamy said, standing and holding out his arm for Clarke to take.

They walked out of Clarke’s office, thankfully dodging a run-in with Diyoza and rounded the corner to a nearby bagel shop. Clarke reached out and twined her fingers through Bellamy’s, swinging their joined hands as they walked.

The restaurant wasn’t particularly crowded, and they ordered quickly, tucking themselves in a booth in the corner.

Clarke analyzed Bellamy from across the table as they sat down. Harper’s revelation was still flitting around her head. Had they been acting so terribly that their friends were hanging out without them? Somehow, looking at Bellamy, with his freckles and a wide smile—she couldn’t figure out how she could have hated him so much.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asked, playing with her fingers over the table.

“Just admiring your freckles,” she smiled, taking a large bite of her bagel. His freckles were beautiful, they spread across his cheekbones and Clarke was fascinated by them. She wanted to take a paintbrush and connect them all, see if they formed a work of art. “I feel like we talk a lot about my career and life. What do you do during the day?” she asked, curiosity getting the best of her.

She had been wondering for a while but couldn’t find a way to bring it up without sounding judgmental. Bellamy had been making it seem like he just worked out all day but there had to be more than it than that.

“I’ve been making arrangements to start my own contracting business,” he admitted, looking down at his food. “I haven’t told anyone other than Murphy, but it seems like it might actually pan out.”

“Bellamy, that’s amazing,” Clarke smiled widely, setting down her bagel to squeeze his arm. “I’m guessing that’s what the jackpot money is for?”

Bellamy paused, studying her for a beat and running a hand through his hair. “It’s kind of the elephant in the room, isn’t it?”

“It feels weird to have an expiration date on a relationship that just started,” Clarke agreed, picking a poppyseed off her bagel.

“There’s no good solution.”

“Maybe Maya can help?”

“I get the feeling that Maya would force us into whatever is technically correct.”

“So, then what…?” she asked irritably, taking a larger than necessary bite.

“We just stopped fighting. I don’t want to get into this, I just want to enjoy what we’re doing,” he resigned, reaching out for her hand once more.

Clarke chewed on her enormous bite for a moment, contemplating Bellamy’s words. As much as it wasn’t a very practical thing to do, she didn’t want to fight either. Gently, she intertwined their fingers. Despite the differences in their hand sizes, it was incredible how well they fit together. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” she agreed finally.

XXX

Bellamy pushed the heavy, red cart through the aisles of Target. Clarke was sitting in the basket and tipped her head back so she could see him.

“Are you sure Murphy doesn’t want a present?” she asked, leaning her head against Bellamy’s forearm.

“Nope, he doesn’t like the attention of the whole thing. It’s the same every year. Bring a pumpkin and alcohol,” he shrugged, steering them toward the liquor aisle.

“Are you sure that isn’t a you and Murphy thing? I don’t want to offend him.”

“You could literally run over Murphy with a car and he wouldn’t be that offended.”

“At least get him a nice bottle of liquor,” she resigned, slumping back into the cart. Sitting in the basket had initially seemed like a really cute idea but now she just felt trapped and didn’t know how to get out without admitting that she had made a mistake. It wasn’t really fun to be in a store when you couldn’t walk around. She could see why kids didn’t like this.

“What exactly do you consider to be a nice bottle of liquor Princess?” he asked, lifting a bottle of wine.

“Not that one,” she replied, wrinkling her nose at the off-brand Merlot he had picked up. “Help me out of here. I’ll pick it out.”

Bellamy set the wine back down on the shelf and chuckled at her. “I knew you would get tired of being in there,” he teased.

“I’m perfectly happy here! I just want to make sure that we get Murphy a good gift!”

“I know for a fact that you can list off expensive brands of wine off the top of your head.”

“Bottle aesthetics are very important,” she tried, crossing her arms indignantly. Bellamy still looked amused and had leaned up against the shelf. He looked casual, and like he had absolutely no intention of helping her out.

They held a stalemate for a minute, stubbornly locking eyes. Clarke looked around, there was no way she was going to be able to get out of the cart without either falling or getting his help.

“Okay fine, I hate it in here. You were right, let me out,” she resigned, reaching out both her arms so that he could lift her.

Bellamy laughed, a deep belly laugh, as he hauled her out of the cart and kissed the top of her head when he put her down on the tile floor. Now free of her self-inflicted prison, Clarke easily picked out a decent bottle of wine that had broad appeal.

XXX

“Please don’t tell me that you two are dressed as Riverdale!” Octavia yelled as Bellamy and Clarke stepped through the front door of the Murphy house.

“I couldn’t resist reviving emo Bellamy for just one night,” Clarke called back, wrapping a hand around Bellamy’s leather-clad bicep. “Jughead was just too good to pass up.”

“Touché,” she agreed, turning back to her conversation with Jasper. They seemed to have picked up right where they left off.

“I can’t believe that I let you dress me in this,” Bellamy murmured, pressing his lips against the shell of Clarke’s ear.

“You like Riverdale, don’t even try to deny it. I caught you watching it without me the other day,” Clarke shrugged, smoothing her soft pink sweater before leading Bellamy further into the room to mingle.

Nobody mentioned the shift between the two of them but the air in the room was noticeably lighter as they all laughed and danced to Halloween music. Murphy had thoroughly appreciated Clarke’s taste in wine and had insisted that they open it immediately to drink together.

They got separated at some point, Bellamy drifting off to chat with Miller while Clarke ended up in the kitchen with Raven, who had insisted on making “Autumnal Margaritas”.

“I think this is just a cider slushie?” Clarke said carefully, twisting the cap off a bottle of Fireball and handing it to Raven.

“I didn’t invite you in here to criticize my creativity! I want details on your little situation. You have the glow of someone who’s getting laid on the reg,” she laughed, pouring a more than generous amount of liquor into the blender.

Clarke winced as the scent of cinnamon liquor hit the air and a blush spread across her cheeks.

“We’ve been—” Clarke began, just as the kitchen door swung open and Emori flew in with an armful of dirty dishes.

“Don’t stop on my account, I’m just setting up the cake,” Emori said dismissively, bending to dig in the fridge.

“Oh don’t worry, Clarke was about to fill me in on her sex glow.”

“She does have a sex glow! Also, I lost the bet by like a week. I owe Miller fifty bucks.”

“I can’t believe that you guys had a bet!” Clarke shook her head, standing to help Emori construct the layers of the cake.

“Of course we did. Neither of these friend groups had any boundaries, combined there are negative boundaries.” Emori laughed, handing a bag of frosting to Clarke. “Now spill.”

“Things are really good. Bellamy is…amazing? I don’t know, I didn’t expect to have so much in common. I kind of wish we had gotten to meet normally,” Clarke admitted, focusing her attention on the layering.

“He’s a great guy,” Emori agreed, “But he’s a tough nut to crack. I think your weirdness is well suited for his weirdness.”

Clarke considered Emori’s words as they finished the cake. Oddly, she was right. Her and Bellamy were both closed off and impulsive but combined it was like they canceled each other out. That was the calmness she had been feeling for the past few months. Bellamy had become her sense of balance.

The revelation bounced around in her head as they cut the cake and played a game of kings. By the time the pumpkin contest had begun, her limbs were feeling a bit heavy and she was scanning the room for Bellamy, so she had someone to lean on.

“Hey,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around Clarke's waist from behind. She sagged immediately into his grasp, tucking her body against his chest.

“Missed you,” she slurred, turning her head to press a kiss into his cheek.

Bellamy pressed his face into the side of her hair, breathing her in. In the heat of the excitement, he had drunk a little more than he intended to and all he wanted to do now was curl into Clarke and go to sleep.

"You're so comfy, but we can't miss the pumpkin contest!" Bellamy laughed, squeezing his arms around Clarke. 

"Contest!?! I thought we were carving them!" 

"Oh no, it's so much better than that," Emori chuckled, beckoning for them to follow her out to the backyard. 

Murphy and Miller were standing around an old tress stump with the floor around them spread with plastic wrap. A fresh pumpkin sat on the old tree. 

"Watch and learn newcomers," Murphy smirked, picking up a large sledgehammer from where it lay in the grass. He held it over his head dramatically before letting out a scream and slamming the hammer down onto the unsuspecting pumpkin. 

Clarke winced as pumpkin sprayed all over the yard with Bellamy whooping beside her. Murphy took a deep bow as Miller lined up another pumpkin and handed the hammer to Bellamy. 

Bellamy's swing was as impressive as Murphy's spraying the entire pumpkin onto the tarp. They each took a turn with a swing, some smashes were more impressive than others. Raven obliterated her pumpkin while it took Harper a few tries to break the skin. 

Clarke went last, the floor was covered in almost half a foot of pumpkin guts but she trudged through it. Hauling the hammer over her head, she hit the pumpkin as hard as she could. The pumpkin not only exploded but flew halfway across the yard, making a distinct thud as it hit the ground. 

"That's my girl!" Bellamy yelled drunkenly, lifting her up off the ground. 

The crowd cheered, but quickly lost interest as they kissed and began to filter inside. Raven's festive margaritas had been a bit hit and she was yelling about making another round to the people inside. 

Clarke pressed one last kiss to Bellamy's lips. Her head felt a little fuzzy and her limbs felt heavy but she was happy. 

They stayed wrapped around one another, swaying lightly to the music filtering out from inside. Slowly, he walked them back toward the house. There was a couch right next to the back door and something soft sounded like exactly what he needed. Bellamy wasn’t sure how long they sat there, but slowly, they were joined by more exhausted drunk people who were either asleep or looked like they were about to be sick.

“Why don’t you guys crash at our place,” Octavia whispered, kneeling next to where they sat on the couch. “I’m sober so I’ll just bring you home with us. We’ll get your car tomorrow.”

They were both too tired to argue, following Octavia to her SUV where Lincoln was already half asleep in the front seat.

“Why are you sober…das weird,” Bellamy mumbled as his sister helped them get into the car.

“Wear your seatbelt and mind your own business,” she scolded, closing the heavy door in his face.

XXX

Clarke woke up to the feeling of something moving on her face, a distinct rolling on her forehead and cheeks. Her mouth was dry, and her head was throbbing, she was also most definitely wearing jeans.

“Good mornin’ Miss. Clarke,” a small voice said as she opened her eyes. Eros was sitting on top of her chest and rolling a small toy car across her forehead.

Before Clarke could fully process what was happening, there was a shriek and Apollo rocketed from a nearby chair, directly onto Bellamy’s chest.

Bellamy awoke with a harsh puff of air, arms flying out to catch his nephew. The boys wrestled together for a moment while Eros climbed off Clarke’s chest to snuggle into her side.

“Well that’s a way to wake up,” Bellamy chuckled, smoothing down Apollo’s hair as he settled into his lap.

“What’s with all the excitement first thing in the morning?” Clarke asked, arms tightening around Eros’ small body where he was snuggled against her.

“Mommy’s havin a baby and she feels sicky in the morning. It’s no fun because then daddy can’t play with us,” Eros said matter of factly, voice muffled because his face was pressed into Clarke’s shirt. “But you’re not busy.”

“Eros! Shhh, it’s ‘upposed to be a secret!” Apollo said harshly, reaching over Clarke to smack his brother.

Bellamy’s eyes widened as he looked over his nephew’s head at Clarke. His sister was having another baby. Clarke grinned widely at him, rubbing Eros’ arm where he had been hit moments before.

“Well Uncle Bellamy, why don’t we get some breakfast?” she said happily, untangling one arm from Eros so that she could cup his jaw.

Bellamy was tearing up a little. As much as it was sappy, he was happy for his sister. She had always wanted a big family and she had been talking about wanting another kid for a while. He was glad she was getting what she had hoped for. For once, it seemed like things were working out for the Blake siblings. It was a little unsettling. Luck wasn’t usually in the cards for the Blakes.

Octavia looked a little sheepish when Bellamy spilled the beans that they knew, but she looked too tired to care. She hugged her brother tightly, it hadn’t been that long ago that it had just been the two of them. Now, there were more than enough Blakes to go around.

“I’m over the moon about it,” she smiled, taking a sip of her herbal tea. “But this little one is knocking me on my butt. I never thought that the twins would’ve been easy in comparison to this,” she explained after hugs had been exchanged. She looked exhausted, hair tangled against her head and dark circles cupping her eyes.

“Why don’t we take the boys off your hands for the day?” Clarke suggested without really thinking about what she was saying. “It’ll give you both some time to sleep.”

Bellamy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he nodded in agreement, arm still wrapped around his sister. “You look like you could use a break. Plus, you hauled us home last night, so we owe you one.”

“Lincoln promised them that we would go to the zoo today. It’s kind of a lot, I don’t want to force you guys to take that on.”

“I think we can handle it,” Bellamy assured, squeezing his sister around the shoulders.

They got the boys ready in a few minutes and rolled out in Octavia’s van, both dressed in borrowed clothes. The Arkadia zoo was only a few miles from the house and the boys spent the entire ride chattering with excitement and arguing about which animal was best.

Eros had taken a particular liking to Clarke and insisted that she held his hand as they walked through the exhibits. In front of them, Bellamy had propped Apollo on his shoulders, giving him an aerial view of the animals.

“Do you want a turn on uncle Bell’s shoulders?” Clarke asked, bending down to meet the boy’s gaze.

“No…it’s too high. You’re quiet, I like that,” Eros shrugged, pulling her arm so they could catch up to the boys.

Clarke’s heart grew a few sizes as she looked at the small, dark-haired boy who was still holding her hand. As much as she had promised herself that she wouldn’t fall in love with Bellamy’s family, it was undeniable that these boys had a piece of her heart.

Seeing the zoo through a little kid’s eyes was like seeing the zoo for the first time again. The boys made elephant trunks with their arms, stood on one leg like a flamingo and roared like lions. Bellamy even taught them how to make dolphin clicks with their tongues.

She had hung back while he stood with them, noses pressed against the glass, trying to communicate with the dolphins. It was a heartbreakingly sweet moment. As much as she tried to resist it, it led to her thoughts wandering to what he would be like as a dad. He was good with kids, patient and gentle. He would be an amazing dad. It made a small part of her heart sink when the annulment reared its ugly head. They weren’t actually married, and she had to stop thinking about him like they were. Even if they were dating. Nothing was for sure, especially not now.

“I can hear you thinking again,” he murmured, kissing her cheek as they returned from the tank.

“I was thinking about how hungry I am!!” she replied, bending down to widen her eyes at the boys. “How do we feel about chicken tenders!”

The boys cheered wildly, both grabbing Clarke’s hands and dragging her through the aquarium. Bellamy trailed behind, laughing as Clarke jogged to keep up with them.

XXX

“I am exhausted,” Clarke groaned flopping down onto the bed. She longed to bury her face into a pillow, but her cheeks were painted like a butterfly and she didn’t want to spread pink paint all over the sheets.

“Skootch,” Bellamy instructed, nudging her so that there was just enough space for him to curl into her. “Octavia wasn’t kidding when she said it was a lot to handle.”

“It wasn’t bad until Apollo had that meltdown in the gift shop.”

“I think you’re forgetting about Eros and the case of the dropped Dippin Dots.”

“Was that before or after the face paint? The whole day is melting together.”

Bellamy leaned into Clarke’s chest, smiling softly when she pillowed her cheek on top of his head and wrapped her arms around him. He was definitely going to get pink glitter in his hair, but being the little spoon was a worthy trade-off.

“Tantrums aside, it was a good day though,” Clarke said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his hairline. His hair was much shorter now, and there wasn’t much to run her fingers through. But it still felt soft against her cheek and smelled distinctly woodsy and warm.

“Those two are going to remember food court smorgasbord as long as they live.”

“Nothing quite like ordering $100 of fried food and saying ‘go nuts’ to them,” she agreed, “Eros asking whether the baby meerkats were twins was also a highlight.”

“He really likes you. He’s normally super shy.”

“Thank you for letting me a part of all this. I never really thought I would get to have nephews or do things like this. It’s really special.”

“Well you’re really special,” Bellamy said softly, tilting his head back to press a soft kiss to Clarke’s lips.

Clarke kissed him back, funneling all her emotions from the day into the kiss. Part of her wanted this so badly that it hurt but another part of her knew it was too good to be true. For now, she was just going to enjoy whatever this was. She wanted this strong, supportive, kind man to be hers so badly, but she couldn’t push it. Clarke had a bad habit of rushing things, and that had never worked in her favor. She was going to take this slow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was just a big ball of gooey fluff, I couldn't resist the cuteness. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also I use the word buggy but I think cart is the more universally used term?
> 
> Hope y'all are winding down on the pre-holiday craziness and aren't too stressed, have a wonderful holiday if I don't get the chance to post again before. I also added an additional chapter bc I'm throwing around ideas for an epilogue. 
> 
> I continue to feel so incredibly spoiled and blessed by all of you. You truly are incredible readers and I feel so lucky. I love hearing your takes and little tid bits about your lives. Thank you for choosing to read this and for sharing a small piece of your day with me. Much love and blessings to you and yours during this time of year <3


	11. A Concession

Clarke buried her head further into Bellamy’s chest, running her hand up and down his side. Her alarm was blaring, but she desperately didn’t want to crawl out of bed. The heat of Bellamy’s body against hers was like a warm blanket, comforting and warm. She could live the rest of her life in this bed, bracketed within his arms. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so safe.

“Skip work, just stay here forever,” Bellamy murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple and pulling her closer to him. His voice was groggy, still scratchy with sleep and the timber of it sent a chill down Clarke’s spine.

“Ughhh,” Clarke moaned, reaching out to silence her second alarm. They had stayed up way too late last night watching Buzzfeed videos in bed and the thought of leaving right now made her whole body feel heavy. Theoretically, she could take a sick day, she had never missed a day of work. Diyoza had been particularly lax with her since she had put her offer on the table.

Before she could psych herself out of it, she rolled over and typed out a quick email to tell Diyoza she had eaten some bad sushi last night. Her stomach twisted a little at the blatant lie, but one look over at Bellamy’s still sleeping form confirmed that this was the right choice.

“You’re a terrible influence Blake,” she smiled, pressing a soft kiss into his bicep and curling back into his arms.

Bellamy chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and kissed her head, letting himself relax into the embrace. He felt an overwhelming sense of contentment as he slowly drifted back to sleep, the soft sounds of Clarke’s breathing against his neck.

When he woke again the apartment had flooded with light, filling the whole space with a soft yellow glow. They had left the window open and a cool breeze drifted through, mixing with the air to give it a clean, sharp tang. It was the perfect morning. Unable to wipe the grin off his face, he pecked Clarke’s head and slipped out of bed, maybe he could make some eggs or something before she woke up.

He had just cracked the first egg into a bowl when a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind and he felt Clarke’s face lean against his back.

“Good morning,” she murmured, punctuating her words with a kiss against his bare back.

“I was going to serve you scrambled eggs in bed, but I see we have other plans,” he smiled, turning in her arms so he could kiss her properly.

It was sweet and slow, the way morning kisses should always be. Clarke’s hands slid up his chest, moving to play with the long strands of hair at the back of his neck. There was no urgency to it, like they had all the time in the world. They kind of did, they were married after all.

But the remainder of them being married brought Bellamy’s mind back to the big red mark on the calendar, the date of their annulment. It was nearing quickly, only a week away. The thought of it brought a knot to his stomach, they hadn’t really talked about it. In part, he had been avoiding it because there was no good solution. On one hand, he was the happiest he had ever been but was this serious enough to stay married? Divorce seemed very final, and it would be weird to go back to dating after all this…even if the only thing that really changed was their title. Basically, it was a lose-lose situation.

Clarke pulled away from him, pecking his lips one last time and turning to flip on the coffee maker.

“What should we do for our hooky day?” Clarke asked, standing on her tiptoes to reach the mugs on the top shelf.

“You’re going to kill me, but I told Murphy I would meet with him today to go over our budget for the business.”

“You’re telling me that you made me skip work and now you’re going to work!” Clarke exclaimed indignantly, stealing a bite of eggs from the pan as she handed Bellamy his coffee.

“Hey, you emailed Charmaine on your own accord!”

“Ew, don’t call her Charmine.”

“I promise it’ll only be an hour or two and then we can do whatever you want. We could even go to that Italian place you like with the minuscule portions,” he conceded, clicking off the burner and turning to face Clarke.

“La Cucina!?” she smiled, all pretenses of irritation disappearing from her face. “I’m not mad anymore,” she continued, pressing a kiss to his cheek and taking the plate from his hand.

“Remind me to file that little trick away for when I inevitably piss you off again.”

“You’re going to have to take me to the French place with the even smaller portions next time.”

“I swear you’re trying to starve me to death,” he groaned, remembering how hungry he was after he had been served 3 ravioli at the Italian place.

Clarke smirked, taking a bite of her eggs as she looked at Bellamy fondly from across the table.

***

Clarke bent down to tie her running shoes, relishing in the way the cool, salty air whipped against her face. It had been a long time she had been able to run on the beach. This used to be her daily ritual, she would wake up at the crack of dawn to jog with the sunrise, shedding her layers as the heat slowly seeped into the air. It was a cloudy day and the mid-afternoon sun was hidden behind a sheet of grey, but the whoosh of the ocean and the slide of the sand against her feet was enough to bring a smile to her face. She had avoided this for too long, this used to be her and Finn’s thing. But she didn’t need Finn anymore, the sting of the breakup had all but faded away with the new happiness she had found with Bellamy.

She could see now that she and Finn had never really been well suited for each other in the first place, they had probably only stayed together as long as they did out of comfort. He wasn’t a bad guy, but he definitely wasn’t her guy.

The breeze, wafted across her cheeks as she kept a brisk pace, her braids beating rhythmically against her back. It was almost meditative, the stress from her job decision and the looming date of the annulment melting away as her feet pounded against the sand.

She was so lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t notice another person running behind her, desperately trying to catch up. The sound of whoever was trying to get her attention was drowned out by her earbuds and she practically jumped when they tapped on her shoulder, causing her to fall against the sand from the sudden stop.

“What the fuck,” Clarke panted, brushing the sand off her knees and she turned around to face Finn. He was wearing jeans and a thick blue pullover, forehead beaded with sweat from running in inappropriate clothing. His hair had grown longer since she had last seen him, now pulled into a neat bun at the back of his head. It looked out of place with the rest of his look, kind of like the break-up bangs Clarke had gotten back in high school.

“I never expected I would actually see you here,” he said quickly, rushing his words like he had been holding them in for a long time. Clarke felt like she was at a disadvantage, he was clearly more prepared for this than she was. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, but I guess you blocked my number, which is kind of understandable…I was a dick to you.”

“I forgot your parents had a house over here—I wouldn’t have come this way if I had known,” she said tersely, stiffening and backing away when he tried to reach out.

“Clarke I’m sorry, please hear me out?”

“No, you knew what you were doing when you broke up with me like that. You knew I had something planned for your birthday. Six years together, a lifetime of friendship before that and you chose to end things so horribly. I’m not going to forgive you. We weren’t good together, in fact, you did me a favor because I never would’ve been happy if we had gotten married. I know that now. But that doesn’t make what you did okay.”

“I just panicked. Your mom told my mom that you were trying to set a wedding date and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to get married, so I tried to cut our losses. I fucked up.”

“I’ve moved on Finn,” she shrugged, feeling nothing but closure at the way this conversation was going. It was the confirmation she needed that this was the right choice, that Bellamy was the person she was supposed to be with.

Something flashed over Finn’s face at her words, his mouth quirking smugly as he reached into the pocket of his pullover, waiting for a beat. Finally, he pulled out her engagement ring. Clarke’s heart stopped, she had meant to give it to her mother to return it, but she hadn’t gotten the chance. That ring was supposed to have been sitting in her bathroom cabinet, there was no possible way that he could have it. Unless…

“I want to be with you Clarke,” he tried again, holding out the ring to her. The huge stone glinted in the dull light, glimmering in a way that taunted her. Her mind raced with all the possibilities of how that ring could be in Finn’s hands. There was really only one way, and the realization caused her heart to smash into a million pieces.

“How did you get that?” she asked, voice catching at the end of her sentence. She already knew the answer, but she needed Finn to say it.

“Your boyfriend gave it to me. Maybe he knows it deep down that we’re supposed to be together too,” Finn shrugged, turning the ring around in his hand.

Clarke’s throat burned with bile and she tried to hold back her tears, she couldn’t give Finn the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten to her.

“Fuck you,” Clarke said quietly, voice dangerously even. “Even if what you said was true, if you loved me you wouldn’t have broken up with me the way you did and you wouldn’t be taking so much satisfaction in going behind my back to get the ring. I don’t think you’re a bad person, but I think you need to reevaluate what it means to love someone. Please don’t try and contact me again.”

Wordless, she turned, taking a deep breath and holding her tears back. Finn didn’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten to her. What he had done, sneaking up on her with the ring had been kind of malicious. But what hurt more was knowing that Bellamy had gone that far to sabotage her before they were together, sure they had done some cruel things to each other, but this was a really low blow. The Bellamy she had thought she had known would never do something like this, maybe she didn’t know him as well as she thought. It had only been three months, in the grand scheme of things they were still relative strangers. She had been stupid, once again she had gone too fast too soon and it was coming back to bite her.

When she finally reached her car, the tears started to spill out, leaving hot tracks against her cheeks. Everything she thought she knew was crumbling underneath her. The happiness she had found in the past weeks was a house of cards built on sand and it was all falling apart around her.

She drove home in silence, tears still rolling down her cheeks as she thought about what she was going to say to Bellamy. It was going to hurt like hell to go in there and accept what he did, to look at him and know that he wasn’t the person she thought he was.

Bellamy was sitting on the couch watching an old Seinfeld rerun when she opened the door, he was shirtless, only wearing a pair of sweatpants. He looked comfortable and familiar, the sight of it just made Clarke’s heart ache more. He turned at the sound of the door opening, face breaking into a lazy smile before he realized she had been crying.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, springing up from the couch to meet her.

“I ran into Finn during my run today,” she said quietly, voice hoarse from crying in the car.

“What?! How did you just—” Bellamy began eyebrows knitting together.

“He tried to give me my engagement ring back. The engagement ring that was supposed to be sitting in our bathroom cabinet. There are only two ways that he could’ve had that. Either he broke in here and ninja’d it out of our bathroom or you gave it to him,” Clarke said, unable to keep herself from crying while she spoke.

“I mean—I—I gave it to him, but I thought—” he rushed to explain, reaching out to touch Clarke’s arms.

“You thought maybe I would go back to him and forfeit all the money?!” she exclaimed, finally admitting what she had been fearful of this whole time.

Bellamy’s expression darkened at her words, taking two steps back as he processed what she said. “You seriously think I would do that? He showed up here and said that you told him to come to get it when you weren’t here.”

“Well that’s convenient isn’t it?” Clarke scoffed, crossing her arms across her chest.

“It seems a little convenient to me that you just happened to run into Finn at the beach? I feel like you went to meet him and this whole thing backfired you, so now you’re pissed,” he snapped back, the heat of anger burning on his neck.

“You seriously think I would do that?!” Clarke exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air at the deflection.

“Maybe we don’t know each other as well as we thought we did,” Bellamy said coldly, narrowing his eyes at her and tensing his jaw. He could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks, but he couldn’t lose his grip. Everything he had thought they had was a lie. It felt like the floor had been pulled under him. Just minutes ago, he had been thinking about making dinner reservations. Suddenly, he longed for a time when the only thing they were fighting about was where to eat. All those years of guarding his heart had been a waste, it had ended up getting broken anyway.

Without another word, Clarke turned around and left, letting the door slam behind her.

The sound was deafening, ringing in Bellamy’s ears long after the air had cleared. When the silence finally hit him, he broke down, truly feeling the heartbreak over Clarke leaving.

It was over and it hurt like hell.

***

Bellamy pulled the blanket over his head, the faint smell of Lincoln making dinner wafting into the room. He had driven to Octavia’s house pretty much as soon as Clarke left, being alone in the apartment was too painful and he had spent the better half of the past week buried under the covers. He couldn’t really sleep, but he also couldn’t bring himself to do much of anything else. Octavia had spent a lot of time lying beside him, the exhaustion from her pregnancy had kept her bedridden and it served as the perfect excuse to keep him company.

“Is Uncle Bell broken?” he heard Eros whisper loudly, the sound of his voice drifting through the room through the crack in the door.

“No stupid, he’s having a baby. He had to sleep like mommy,” Apollo replied also whispering loudly.

“You’re a stupid, boys can’t have babies,” Eros snapped back, response punctuated by a loud smack. The movement resulted in a few smacks back and forth before he heard Octavia’s voice.

“Both of you stop it. Uncle Bell is just really sad right now and sometimes when people are sad, they need to rest,” she said gently, voice taking on a distinct motherly tone.

“So he’s not having a baby?” Eros asked again, voice probing.

“Some boys can have babies, but Uncle Bell doesn’t have the right parts for that. I’ll explain when you’re older but technically nobody is right.”

“But-“ Apollo piped in, clearly upset that Octavia hadn’t sided with him.

“You can have twenty minutes of iPad time each if there’s no more hitting,” she finally resigned tiredly. Both the boys cheered, and the thud of feet sounded down the hallway as Octavia pushed the door open. She had a plate of grilled cheese and a glass of milk in her hands, a chocolate chip cookie balanced precariously on top of the glass.

“You need to eat something,” she scolded, placing the plate on his lap as he sat up in bed. The combination was something he had made for her hundreds of times when they were kids. It was one of the first things he had been able to make. When their mom worked late, Bellamy used to pull the stepstool from the bathroom and make them grilled cheese for dinner. Sometimes, if their mom had a particularly good week at work, there were Chips Ahoy in the pantry and he would let her have one for dessert while they watched Scooby-Doo.

“This is definitely an upgrade from Chips Ahoy,” he grinned, taking a bit of the homemade cookie. “You should be resting though; you didn’t have to do this.”

“You’ve been taking care of me my whole life, let me do this for you. I’m pregnant, not made of glass,” she said fondly, reaching out to smooth his hair. “Plus, Lincoln made the cookies.”

“Thank you,” he smiled, tilting his head to look at his baby sister. He was really grateful for her. He had just kind of shut down after the breakup if it wasn’t for her he probably would’ve been living on stale Ritz crackers and seltzer water.

“Have you thought about talking to her? I’ve never seen you like this.”

“There isn’t really anything to talk about…I fell in love with a total stranger, everything we thought we knew about each other was a lie.”

“Not everything Bell, sure, three months isn’t long enough to know someone well enough to marry them but I’m sure not all of it was fake.”

“Leave it O, just let me get this annulment and die alone in peace,” Bellamy said tiredly, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“I just want you to be happy. If you want to live in this guest room forever, you’re more than welcome to,” she said sincerely, scooting closer and resting her head against his shoulder. “Should we watch Scooby-Doo? They just added it on Netflix,” she asked cheerfully, redirecting the conversation toward the validity of Zombie Island vs. every other movie.

***

Clarke strode into Diyoza’s office, heels clicking against the expensive Japanese tile. After almost a week of crying herself to sleep, pedaling herself to death on an exercise bike and locking herself in Raven’s guest bedroom, Clarke had finally pulled herself together. It had been a hard week, she had spent most of it staring at the ceiling and deconstructing every memory she and Bellamy had together, trying to discern whether it was real or fake. It had felt so sincere, she had really thought she was falling in love with him.

“I want the job,” Clarke said confidently, sliding the signed contract across the table. “But I want a few weeks off before I start.” The last part was more of a demand than an ask, but Clarke figured now was the time to be assertive. She needed to get out of Arkadia, needed to just get away from all the places that were tainted with memories of the past few months. She had been looking at flights to Iceland, it was perfect, remote enough that her phone wouldn’t work but filled with plenty of clean air and wide-open spaces.

Diyoza smiled broadly, standing up to shake Clarke’s hand and smile at her warmly, “Congratulations, I’m happy to have you. I’ll see you in the new year, take the whole month off. I’m feeling generous.”

Clarke smiled back, genuinely grateful for her boss’s kindness. This was the start of a good thing, Diyoza was harsh, but she wasn’t a bad person.

“Thank you, Charmaine, I’ll see you in January,” Clarke grinned, dropping the handshake to give her boss a hug before exiting the office.

She booked her flight and Air BnB on her phone while walking out to her car. Her heart still felt heavy but there was a glimmer of hope now, even if her personal life was a mess, at least her professional life was off to a great start.

***

“This is pretty cut and dry, it’ll probably only last a few minutes,” Emori assured, shuffling the stack of papers in front of her.

Bellamy adjusted his tie, Miles was standing alone on the other side of the room. Clarke was nowhere in sight.

The judge banged his gavel against the bench, calling the court to order.

“Mr. Shaw, where is your client?” he asked gruffly, pushing his glasses down his nose to examine the manilla folder on his desk.

Miles stood, glancing awkwardly toward Bellamy and Emori before clearing his throat and folding his hands. “Ms. Griffin has decided to forfeit her half of the money, as her representation she has given me the rights to provide you with this documentation,” Miles said, voice unreadable as he handed a single sheet of paper to the judge.

The judge scanned the paper for a brief moment, eyes flitting immediately to the bottom of the paper. “Well, I’m not in the mood to waste anyone’s time. This is fairly open and shut, Mr. Blake you are awarded the entirety of the 3 million dollar winnings,” he shrugged, banging the gavel and giving them all a disappointed eye-roll as he stood up to leave.

Bellamy felt sick like he was genuinely concerned that he was going to throw up as he stared at the table. He hadn’t expected that. Suddenly it hit him that he would never see Clarke again, that this was truly over. Before he could even register what was happening, he started hyperventilating, unable to catch his breath.

The next few minutes were a blur of people crowding him and then yelling at each other to stop crowding him. He wished Octavia hadn’t been too sick to come, she always knew what to do when this happened. Finally, the noises seemed to dull and Maya appeared in front of him, kneeling on the floor with a glass of water.

“I need you to count my fingers,” she said slowly, holding up her hand. “I know it’s hard to concentrate by I need you to try—1, 2, 3, 4, 5…”

Bellamy counted with her, his heart finally slowing down and his breathing regulating back to normal. It took counting to ten, six times before he had fully recovered. Still a little shaky, he took the glass of water, downing it in a few sips.

“Everything went to shit,” he said finally, clutching the glass so hard he thought it might break.

“I gathered that when Clarke came into my office with tears running down her cheeks and handed me this,” Maya sighed, placing a small white envelope on the table. “You two are one of the most difficult couples I have ever had. You’re both so damn stubborn it kills me.”

“It was all a sham, we’re complete strangers,” he sighed, holding his head in his hands.

“That terrible pseudo dry hump you did in my office on your first visit was a sham, but whatever else was going on wasn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not my job to tell you how you feel,” Maya shrugged, pushing up from her kneeling position and dusting off her plaid skirt. “But I’m officially not your therapist anymore so I can tell you now that you’d be missing out on something pretty special if you let go of that. It’s hard to find, some people aren’t even lucky enough to find that once.”

Maya started to walk away but something in Bellamy called her back, grabbing one of Emori’s papers and pulling out his phone. Quickly he scribbled on it and tore off one of the corners. “This is Jasper Jordan’s number, I think you guys would really hit it off. You deserve to be happy too,” he said earnestly, holding out the paper to her.

Maya blushed heavily, taking the scrap and shoving it in her pocket. “I hope you work it out. You’re both annoying as hell but I’m somehow invested in this now,” she said, turning and quickly exiting the courthouse.

Bellamy stared at the envelope that she had left on the table, shoving it into his jacket pocket. He was drained, he couldn’t take anymore right now. The letter could wait.

***

Bellamy sat on the floor of Octavia’s guest bedroom, the small white envelope sitting in front of him. Part of him had wanted to throw it away and never look at it again but the curiosity got the better of him. He didn’t want to let go of it yet. Maya’s words were ringing in his head, this whole thing had been hard and weird and confusing but it had cracked his heart in a way he hadn’t expected. It had been a long time since he had been as happy as he had been with Clarke, as much as it felt like someone had shot him in the chest, it was good to know he could still feel that way about someone.

As much as he was hurting, he couldn’t let it go, as much as he wanted to. If he got rid of the letter he would always wonder. He couldn’t believe that she hadn’t shown up today. She had to have been pretty hurt to have given up the money, a stab of guilt hit him in the chest.

Unable to handle the suspense anymore he tore open the envelope. Inside was a small, monogrammed card with Clarke’s initials, just from the look of it, it was clear Clarke’s mom had given it to her.

_Bellamy, _

_Everything that happened from the moment we met was statistically improbable. Now, I’m not a math whiz but I would say it’s less than 0.01%. I never expected the hotel to have a clerical error or for us to somehow hit the jackpot…and I definitely never expected to fall in love with you. But somehow all three of those things happened. I think money can bring out the worst in people and it definitely brought out the worst in us. I took it upon myself to remove myself from the equation. I took the job and I’m spending some time away from everything because I need to just feel happy again. Right now, it feels like that’s never going to happen, my happiness feels intrinsically tied to you. Thank you for giving me some of the happiest memories I have. I don’t know what exactly went down with the ring, but I don’t know if I care anymore. Talking to Finn made me realize that I’ve known him for my whole life and he barely knows me at all, three months or almost thirty years…it doesn’t make a difference. You made me feel more loved in the past few weeks than I have since my dad died. I’m sorry if I hurt you. I wish we had gotten to do this all normally, maybe things would’ve been different. I hope in another life we can be together but I do thank the serendipitous events that allowed us to have what we did. _

_All my love, _

_Clarke _

Bellamy read and re-read the letter over and over, allowing Clarke’s words to sink in. He was an idiot, Maya was right, they were both idiots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN!!! Sorry it's been so long, it's taken me a while to figure out how I wanted to go about this without it being completely ridiculous. Honestly though, this is one of the cheesiest of cheesy rom-coms, I'm going to stop fighting it and end this with as much gooey mildly cliché sap as possible. It'll probably be a pretty short ride to the end from here! I'm really excited for the ending I have planned, it's going to be cute as hell guys! Don't worry the angst is pretty short lived. 
> 
> Thank you for everyone who has been so patient while I figured all this out, I want to do justice by this story and I hope that you enjoy this! Clarke's letter in particular was one of my faves (if you know me you know I'm a sucker for a sappy letter). 
> 
> Please let me know what you think if you feel compelled, I always love hearing from you all!! :) Much love <3


	12. Doing it Right

Bellamy burst into the coffee shop, scanning the crowded room for a second before he spotted the bright blue streak in Emori’s hair. Murphy, Emori, Harper, Monty, and Raven were all tucked into a table in the corner of the store. Harper had definitely undersold how much they all hung out without him and Clarke. They were entrenched in a serious conversation, voices dropped and heads tipped together when he approached.

He cleared his throat, taking a small amount of satisfaction in the way they all jumped.

“I need you to tell me where Clarke is,” Bellamy said, cutting to the chase, he had been mulling over the letter for a few days now, desperately trying to fix everything. It had been too much and finally, at the encouragement of Octavia, he put his pride aside and decided to ask for help. “We fucked up, I need to fix this.”

Harper chewed her lip between her teeth, looking between Raven and Bellamy nervously. Bellamy felt a blip of desperation in his chest at her hesitation. If her friends didn’t want to help him then there was nothing he could do, he would never be able to find her on his own.

“I told myself I wasn’t going to get involved in this because frankly, it’s totally insane but I’m worried about Clarke—” she began carefully, pausing between words as if she was still unsure of what she wanted to do.

“Plus, you look like hell,” Murphy added, giving Bellamy a wry smile and thumping him fondly on the back.

“Clarke has dated her fair share of difficult people but to be honest you’re not like any of them. Whatever went down with you guys…you can’t leave it like this,” Harper continued, glaring at Murphy for the interruption.

“Honestly you guys have been into each other from the start. No adult guy races down a hotel lobby with someone they don’t want to have sex with,” Murphy interrupted again, chuckling to himself as Emori kicked him under the table.

“Can you stop? I’m trying to encourage him!”

“So am I, you take too long to talk.”

Harper and Murphy bickered for a few more minutes, several people in the coffee shop turned to see where all the noise was coming from. Bellamy wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take, this was kind of a time-sensitive issue.

“Oh, for God’s sake, she’s in Iceland. I just emailed you the information, do with it what you will,” Raven interjected, rolling her eyes at the smack Harper gave her from across the table. “You’re all too dramatic for your own good.”

Bellamy sagged in relief, glancing at his phone to confirm that Raven had actually sent him the information.

Sure enough, there it was.

“Thank you to Raven and only to Raven,” he said, running a hand through his hair. He was going to Iceland. Sure, it was more than a little crazy, but he had to fix this, and this was the only way he could think of. Clarke giving up the money was a grand gesture and he needed his own in return to prove to her that he didn’t want to let her go, not now and not ever. A last-minute flight to Iceland was going to cost a pretty penny, but he had money to blow now. He hadn’t touched a cent of it, it hadn’t felt right. But this felt like as good of a cause as any.

***

Clarke sat heavily on the frozen ledge, breathing in the freezing cold air. Beside her, one of the hiking dogs came to lay down, pressing his warm side against her thigh. Being here felt good, but the silence was deafening. Her brain swirled with the weight of her thoughts. She had replayed her conversation with Bellamy probably a hundred times, it had been short, but it was just enough to ruin everything.

Being away from him wasn’t helping, as much as she had hoped the distance would help dull the ache…all it was doing was making her heart hurt worse. In a way, she was glad she was on top of a remote glacier with only a dog for company. Her phone had been turned off since she landed, both allowing her a moment of peace and keeping her away from the temptation of calling or texting Bellamy.

She was dreading all the things that awaited for her upon her return. She had to find a new apartment, move into a new office and come to terms with the fact that she would probably never see Bellamy again. Arkadia was a big city, it was unlikely they would run into each other in their regular life. They had never seen each other before Vegas after all, or maybe they had, and Clarke had just never noticed.

Briefly, she let herself indulge in a fantasy where she and Bellamy had met in a coffee shop. Maybe they would’ve actually had a chance. There would’ve been no millions, no Maya and no annulment. Clarke barely registered that she was crying until she felt the cold chill of the wind hitting her face.

Looking out at the valley, blanketed in a thick layer of snow. There wasn’t another person in sight. It had been what she had wanted, but at this moment, Clarke felt incredibly alone.

***

Bellamy bounced his knee nervously in the passenger seat of the cab. The car was tiny, entirely too small to accommodate someone of his size. The cramped quarters made him even more fidgety, his whole body electrified with nervousness over what he was about to do.

Objectively, this was crazy. He knew it was crazy, Octavia had told him it was crazy, but it didn’t seem like there was any other choice. Bellamy had never been very good at being practical in emotional situations, he always acted too fast, reacted too much. It was why he had kept away from romantic relationships before this, he always felt too much, fell too hard. But this was different, Clarke was different. He couldn’t lose her, this wasn’t just his heart getting the best of him, it was his whole future balancing on a ledge.

The pit in his stomach grew as he thought about all the ways this could go wrong. Clarke would be completely within her rights to tell him to get lost, to call the police on him and get a restraining order. But it was a risk he was willing to take. He couldn’t spend his entire life wondering what would’ve been, he had to know he at least tried.

Her letter sat heavily in his pocket, the only thing providing him with a semblance of hope. Her words hadn’t felt like a goodbye, they were tinged with something, a potential that Bellamy had to hear from Clarke herself. His heart thudded loudly in his ears, he needed to hear her voice, needed to see her and tell her how he felt.

The car skidding to a halt and the driver gave him a bored look, gesturing toward the small red cottage at the end of the street. Bellamy thanked him and collected his backpack, stepping out onto the ice-covered road.

Carefully, he tread through the snow, carving a path toward the cottage. There was a single set of footsteps leading away from the house. Bellamy tread over them, taking a seat on the front step. All he had to do now was wait.

He had to admit, this place was beautiful. There were pens of sheep and goats spotted all around, little colorful single-family cottages and the view of a grand snow-tipped mountain off in the distance. If he were here for any other reason, it would’ve been perfect. But the idyllic nature of the whole thing was muted by the bundle of nerves sitting at the bottom of his stomach. He wasn’t sure how long he had until she got back, but the longer he sat there, the more nervous he felt.

Finally, just as the sun started dipping into the horizon and the whole street was bathed in an orange glow, he heard the crunch of boots coming toward the house. Heart still beating in his chest, he sprung up, appearing from behind a bush just in time to see Clarke coming up the path.

She froze at the sight of him, a small gasp escaping her lips. She was bundled up in a thick black coat, her nose red from the cold. All Bellamy could think was that she was truly the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

“Bellamy,” she whispered, walking toward him slowly, almost as if she didn’t believe she was actually standing in front of her.

“I know this is crazy and if you want me to leave, I will. But I couldn’t let things end the way they did. The thought of never seeing you again—” he began, voice choking as he took in Clarke’s wide-eyed stare. He had missed her so much, the weight of it hitting him as she moved closer. They were almost touching, barely a hair of distance between them. “I want to be with you. Not in another life, in this one. Even when we were fighting, I’ve never felt more alive than I did with you. The money doesn’t matter—I hate that I have it, I don’t want it if I don’t have you to share it with.”

“Bell,” she gasped, stepping forward to place a hand on his chest, the heat of her hands seeping into his skin.

“I’m so sorry if I ever hurt you. We may not know everything about each other, but I want to spend the rest of my life getting to know you. I love you, Clarke Griffin,” He finished, barely able to think over the sound of his heartbeat.

Clarke’s eyes were glassy, she was speechless. Bellamy had flown all the way here to apologize. He wanted to fix things, wanted to be together. The weight of the past few days slipped off her shoulders as she took him in. His soft smile, the splatter of freckles, the sharp edge of his cheekbones, she never thought that she would see him again. Right now, their fight didn’t matter, nothing else really mattered. It just mattered that he was here.

It felt like time was moving in slow motion as she reached out to cup his jaw, rubbing his cheek gently with her thumb.

“I love you too,” she smiled, sliding her hand from his cheek to his shoulder.

Carefully, she pressed up onto her tiptoes and kissed him. His hands came to wrap around her ribcage, holding her so gently that it was almost as if his hands weren’t there at all. The kiss was soft, fragile, filled with the promise of what was to come. This was the beginning, a fresh start with no deadline.

Bellamy pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, reveling in a moment he never thought he would get to have again.

“Let’s take it slow this time,” Clarke murmured, pressing forward to place another kiss on his lips.

“So, I guess now’s not a good time to ask you to marry me?” he chuckled, pulling away from her slightly to produce a small, delicate engagement ring. It was nothing like her fake plastic one or the giant one from Finn—it was perfect.

Clarke gasped, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth as she looked at the ring. “It’s—it’s perfect,” she said finally, eyes flitting between him and the ring.

“Whaddya say, Griffin, should we do it right this time?” he asked, stepping out of her grasp to kneel in front of her.

“Of course I want to marry you,” she smiled, pulling him up for another kiss. He smiled against her lips, unable to contain the excitement.

“Let’s have a long engagement though,” he grinned, slipping the ring onto her finger and punctuating it with another kiss.

“I’m completely fine with that,” Clarke agreed, pulling him back down and deepening the kiss. This one was loaded, full of love, lost time and excitement for the future. They were getting married, for real this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol told you it would be sappy af! And just like that, it's the last real chapter. There will be a short epilogue full of cuteness that I'm super excited to post soon (it just needs to be edited). 
> 
> I hope you guys liked this goofy, silly, rollercoaster of a story. It's been nice to write something a little more lighthearted and funny, I've loved every moment of it. Thank you endlessly to the friends I have made while writing this and all the people who have supported and loved this story. Your kind words, encouragement and feedback are a huge part of making this what it is. I love you guys, I am so grateful for you. 
> 
> I would love to hear what y'all think about the way things ended up <3 I'm always coming up with new things so I hope to see you all around. If you want to be buds you can always find me on Tumblr! :)


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Tears everywhere*

_*A few years later*_

The elevator pinged and Bellamy propped his arm to lead Clarke out. They looked around the lobby, far emptier than it had looked the first time they had stepped foot in it.

“Should we?” Clarke asked, holding up a quarter and gesturing toward the row of slot machines.

“For old time’s sake,” he grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to Clarke’s lips as he led her toward the one they had stood in front of all those years ago.

Sharing one last kiss, Bellamy slipped the coin into the slot and Clarke pulled the lever. The dial spun, clicking with each turn. It seemed to move in slow motion. Frankly, Bellamy didn’t really care what the screen showed, his eyes drifting toward Clarke. She had a wide smile on her face, nose scrunched up like she was recalling the memory of the last time they had done this. It felt like yesterday and a lifetime ago all at once.

Finally, the machine let out a loud buzz indicating their loss.

“Guess lightning only strikes once,” Clarke shrugged, leaning against the colorful plastic.

“You can say that again,” Bellamy winked, kissing her again.

Clarke felt warm and fuzzy as she leaned against the machine that started it all, kissing the man she loved. It felt oddly poetic to be here again.

“Ewwwww,” a small voice yelled, just as Eros and Apollo came barreling toward them. Their little suits were already crumpled, Apollo’s bowtie hanging off from one side.

“Aunt Clarke, mommy told us to tell you that everyone’s looking for you guys,” Eros said, eyes wide with seriousness.

Clarke reached down and pulled Eros against her side, the movement encumbered by the wide skirt of her dress.

“We were just having a little fun,” Bellamy explained, ruffling Apollo’s hair. Octavia would definitely be mad about it; they still had a lot of pictures to take.

“Can we have a little fun too?” Eros asked, propping his chin against Clarke’s leg.

“Yeah, we held the rings really still just like you said!”

“And we didn’t talk while mister Jasper was talking!”

Bellamy snorted, shooting a mischievous glance at Clarke before kneeling down to eye level with the boys.

“You guys did a really good job today,” he began, chuckling to himself. “I have a great idea,” he then bent forward and whispered something in the boy’s ears, winking as he straightened back up.

Clarke eyed him suspiciously as he reached out to take her hand. “Okay go,” he instructed, the boys both taking off into a sprint at his words.

It took Clarke a beat to register what was happening before she grabbed Bellamy’s hand and raced behind them.

Clarke looked back at Bellamy as they ran, he had a wide grin spread across his face. She loved the way he laughed, it took up his whole face, causing his eyes to squint and the corners of his mouth to pull up so far it looked like his face was about to split in half. She loved everything about this man, her heart squeezing with the overwhelming emotion of today. She owed so much of what she had to that stupid slot machine.

“You’re lucky I took my heels off before we did this,” she panted as they skid to a stop in front of the golden elevator doors.

“I’m lucky for a lot of reasons,” he smiled, pulling their joined hands so Clarke was flush against him, kissing her softly.

The elevator pinged and they pulled apart, shepherding the boys through the doors.

“We have a party to get to Mrs. Blake,” he teased, taking her hand and threading his fingers through hers.

“Can’t be late to our own wedding reception, can we Mr. Blake?” she smiled, squeezing his hand tightly and relishing in the way their wedding bands clicked together. They were married…for real this time. For once, Clarke was eternally grateful that what happened in Vegas didn’t stay in Vegas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And just like that...we're done. I cannot believe this story is over. It's been a weird, funny, hilarious ride. This one really pushed me as a writer and has helped me grow so much. It's also been a blast to write. I hope this little epilogue gives you some closure. 
> 
> I wouldn't be able to do this without all of you. Thank you to everyone who has loved and supported this story, it's been a labor of love from start to finish. I am so blessed and grateful to have had this experience with all of you. 
> 
> Please stay in touch, you can find me on Tumblr and I also have another WIP on here. I'm hoping to dive into another piece while I have some free time and the inspiration is still fresh (Also before S7 destroys me). If you have any suggestion for future Rom-Coms, I always love to hear them. Catch y'all on the flip side. Much love always <3

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know if people still use tumblr but I got access to my old one. My username is Nakey-cats-take-bathsss! 
> 
> Come hang out, especially if you have suggestions for this story or for other rom coms that would well as AUs.


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